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BY    THE    AUTHOR    OF    THIS    VOLUME. 


TWO    POWERFUL    ROMANCES 

BY  WILHELMINE  VON  HILLERN. 

ONLY  A  GIRL. 

PROM   THE   GERMAN,    BY    MRS.  A.  L.   WI8TER. 
1>imo.    Fine  Cloth.    $8. 

"This  Is  a  charming  work,  charmingly  written,  and  no  one  who  reads 
it  nan  lay  it  down  without  feeling  impressed  with  the  superior  talent  of 
its  gifted  author." 

BY  HIS  OWN  MIGHT. 

FROM   THE   GERMAN,  BY   M.  8. 

lUrno.     n,,f  Cloth.    $1.75. 
"A  story  of  intense  interest,  well  wrought." — Boiton  Commonwealth. 


For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on 
receipt  of  the  price  by 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   &  CO.,  Publishers, 

716  and  717  Market  St.,  Philadelphia. 


W1LHELMINE   VON   HILLERN. 


A  TWOFOLD  LIFE;/ 


BY 

WILHELMINE    VON    HILLERN, 

AUTHOB  OP  "OXLY  A  OIRL,"  "BI  HIS  OWN  MIGHT,"  ECO. 


It  is  not  what  the  world  ia  to  us,  but  what  we  are  to  the  world,  that  is  the  measure 
of  our  happiness. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 

BY  M.  S.f 

o»  "BT  HIS  OWN  iaaHT.n 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO. 

1873. 


- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

J.  B.   LIPPINCOTT    A    CO., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


pr 

X35S 


TO 

MY  HONOKED  AND  BELOTED  MOTHER, 

CHAKLOTTE  BIRCH-PFEIFFER. 

TO    TOU,    BEAR     MOTHER,    BELONGS     THIS     FIRST     PRODUCT     OP    AN    ASPIRATION    YOU 

AWOKE,    AND,   IN    LOYAL    UNION   WITH    MY   BELOVED   FATHER,  AIDED    BY 

YOUB  POWERFUL  EXAMPLE  TO  DEVELOP.      RECEIVE  IT  AS  A 

FAINT  TOKEN  OF  GRATITUDE  FOR  A  LOVE  WHICH 

A     WHOLE    LIFE    WOULD    NOT    BE 

SUFFICIENT  TO  REPAY. 

THE  AUTHORESS. 


832704 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.— Mental  Strife 7 

II. — Dual  Apparitions 16 

III. — From  Falsehood  to  Falsehood 25 

IV.— A  Guardian  Angel 33 

V. — Master  and  Pupil 41 

VI.— The  Prison  Fairy ,        .        .62 

VII.— An  Aristocrat 80 

VIII.— In  the  Prison 91 

IX. — Fraulein  Veronica  von  Albin 98 

X.— Progress   .       ,..-•' 107 

XL— A  New  Life       .        .        ....        .        .        .132 

XIL— The  Search  for  a  Wife 153 

XIIL— A  Sacrifice 160 

XIV. — Churchyard  Blossoms 176 

XV.— A  Royal  Marriage    .        .         .         .        .        .        .        .184 

XVI.— The  Two  Betrothed  Brides 203 

XVII.— Insnared  .        ...        .        .        .        .        .        .        .221 

XVIIL— Cornelia  and  Ottilie 234 

XIX.— The  Catastrophe 254 

XX.— Thither     .        .        . 273 

XXL— Spring  Storms 287 

XXIL— Light  and  Shadow 294 

XXIIL— Between  Heaven  affd  Earth 311 

XXIV.— Regeneration 325 

I*  (v) 


A  TWOFOLD    LIFE. 


i. 

MENTAL   STRIPE. 

IN  an  elegant  apartment  which  luxury  and  wealth  had 
adorned  with  everything  that  the  fantastic  industry  of 
our  times  affords,  two  stately  figures  were  pacing  rapidly 
up  and  down :  a  lady  no  longer  young  but  still  magnifi- 
cently beautiful,  a  true  Pariftienne  and  lionne  of  society, 
and  a  young  man  with  an  aristocratic,  though  somewhat 
stern,  bearing,  dark  hair,  and  strongly  marked  features. 
At  times  they  eagerly  approached  <W,ch  other  with  flash- 
ing eyes,  then  turned  away  to  resume" their  restless  pacing 
to  and  fro. 

"It  is  useless,  we  must  part!"  cried  the  youth,  after  a 
pause.  "  My  passion  for  you  is  destroying  my  whole 
life  :  my  studies  are  neglected,  nothing  has  any  charm  for 
me  unless  connected  with  you ;  my  fancy  is  unceasingly 
busied  with  your  image.  I  can  no  longer  work,  no  longer 
think,  no  longer  create  anything,  and  unless  I  can  break 
loose  from  this  conflict  I  shall  become  a  dishonored 
wretch,  or  consume  my  strength  in  endless  torture  and 
go  to  destruction  1  We  must  part  forever  1" 

There  was  no  answer.  The  lady  had  thrown  herself 
upon  a  causeuse  which  stood  just  under  a  niche  over- 
grown with  ivy  and  lighted  with  lamps  that  gleamed 
through  crimson  shades,  and  was  gazing  steadily  into  the 
soft  gloom,  while  a  tear  rolled  slowly  down  her  cheek. 
Our  hero  turned,  after  vainly  waiting  for  a  reply,  and 
looked  ardently  at  the  beautiful  picture. 

O) 


8  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

The  deepest  silence  pervaded  the  elegant  apartment, 
only  interrupted  by  the  low  plashing  of  a  tiny  fountain 
which  fell  into  a  marble  basin  filled  with  goldfish.  Count- 
less hyacinths  exhaled  their  fragrance  amid  tall  exotic 
plants,  and  between  the  heavy  silken  curtains  and  portieres 
gleamed  marble  statues,  which  in  the  dim  purple  light 
seemed  instinct  with  life.  Everything  breathed  love  and 
secret  bliss.  Allured  by  some  magnetic  attraction  our 
hero  knelt  before  the  silent  figure,  and  kissing  the  hand 
that  hung  by  her  side,  whispered:  "Great  Heaven,  if 
you  weep  how  shall  I  find  strength  to  conquer  this  mo- 
ment ?  Oh,  do  not  condemn  me  to  suffer  all  the  torments 
which  only  a  fiend  can  devise  for  feeble  human  beings! 
If  you  have  a  heart  that  can  weep,  in  mercy  soften  tliis 
farewell.  If  you  really  loved  me,  you  would  not  by  every 
alluring  art  seek  to  place  me  in  a  relation  where  your 
better  self  must  renounce  and  despise  me." 

"What  do  I  desire?"  was  the  reply.  "I  wish  to  keep 
you,  you  who  are  the  sole  happiness  of  my  life.  I  will 
not,  cannot,  see  you  leave  me  so  coldly,  cannot  loose  you 
from  these  arms,  which  in  your  person  hold  my  very  life. 
What  will  my  husband  lose  if  through  you  he  receives 
what  he  does  not  know  how  to  win  himself:  a  happy 
wife  ?  what  will  he  lose  if  the  smile  I  feign  for  him  be- 
comes real?  What  has  he  made  me?  A  doll  to  amuse 
society,  a  puppet  to  minister  to  his  empty  vanity.  What 
does  he  lose  if  the  doll  receives  life  ?  He  has  never  asked 
for  my  heart, — do  I  rob  him  if  I  give  that  which  he' 
neither  knows  nor  prizes  to  another  who  longs  for  it,  and 
whom  it  can  make  happy?"  She  paused  and  pressed  a 
light  kiss  on  the  listening  ear  of  her  friend.  Bewildered 
by  her  musical  whisper  and  warm  breath,  he  leaned  his 
burning  cheek  upon  her  breast  and  could  find  no  reply. 

She  clasped  him  in  a  closer  embrace  and  continued,  in 
a  tone*  of  reproachful  tenderness,  "Now  that  our  rela- 
tion must  be  decided,  you  are  so  stern,  so  coldly  conscien- 
tious, and  yet — who  woke  this  love  in  my  frozen  heart? 
Who  implored  me  to  prolong  my  stay  in  Germany? 
Who  increased  my  passion  by  a  thousand  sweet  noth- 
ings? Was  it  not  you,  who  now  reject  me  ?" 

"  Alas  I  my  wretched  frivolity,  it  punishes  me  heavily," 


MENTAL   STRIFE.  9 

he  murmured,  with  a  deep  sigh ;  "but  as  it  has  brought 
me  to  tliis  pass,  it  shall  at  least  lead  me  no  further." 

He  tried  to  rise,  but  she  still  clung  to  him.  "  Do  you 
no  longer  love  me?"  she  cried,  bursting  into  tears. 

"  Yes,  my  heart  is  glowing  with  love  for  you  !"  he  ex- 
claimed, clasping  her  in  his  arms.  "  But  shall  I  become 
unprincipled  because  I  have  been  thoughtless?  Because 
1  have  taken  peace  from  your  heart,  shall  I  rob  you  of  a 
quiet  conscience  ?  Because  ennui  and  ignoble  desires 
have  led  me  to  form  an  unworthy  friendship  with  D'An- 
ueaud,  your  mindless,  heartless  husband,  shall  I  now 
become  traitor  to  his  honor  and  my  own?" 

"Go,  then,"  murmured  the  beautiful  woman,  removing 
her  arms, — "go,  if  you  have  the  strength  to  do  so." 

"You  give  me  the  power  yourself,  for  you  do  not  un- 
derstand me.  The  more  firmly  you  cling  to  me,  the  more 
surely  my  nobler  being  finds  the  strength  to  escape  you. 
I  am  aware  that  I  have  two  natures  within  me:  one  longs 
for  you,  but  the  other  turns  resolutely  away,  and  at  this 
moment  solemnizes  its  greatest,  most  agonizing  victory, 
since  it  compels  me  to  resign  you.  Yes,  its  most  agoniz- 
ing victory,"  he  repeated,  clasping  the  angry  woman  to 
his  heart  with  passionate  love.  "You  weep,  but  my  very 
heart  is  bleeding,  beautiful,  lovely  woman  ;  no  tongue  can 
express  what  I  suffer." 

For  a  moment  they  stood  with  their  lips  clinging 
together  ;  at  last  with  a  violent  effort  he  tore  himself  from 
her  embrace  and  rushed  out  of  the  room  without  another 
word. 

"  Henri !"  she  cried,  faintly. 

In  vain  :  Henri  ran  down  the  staircase,  sprang  into 
his  carriage,  and  shouted  to  the  coachman,  "  To  Ott- 
marsfeld  1" 

Ottmarsfeld,  Heiurich  von  Ottmar's  family  estate,  where 
he  lived  alone  with  his  servants,  was  a  two  hours'  drive 
from  the  capital.  While  within  the  limits  of  the  city 
Heinrich  looked  incessantly  back  towards  the  tempting 
house,  but  when  the  carriage  rolled  through  the  gate  he 
wrapped  himself  in  his  cloak  and  sank  into  a  profound 
reverie. 

The  keen  night  air  blew  sharply  upon  him,  and  he 
A* 


]0  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

shrank  back  into  one  corner  of  the  carriage  with  a  shiver. 
The  trees  along  the  highway  towered  stiff  and  bare  in  the 
darkness.  Now  and  then  one  of  the  horses  shied  at  the 
sight  of  some  strange  shadow.  A  muttered  oath  and  the 
crack  of  the  whip  followed,  then  all  was  silent  again  ex- 
.cept  the  regular  beat  of  the  hoofs  as  the  horses  trotted 
forward.  Heinrich's  heated  fancy  compared  this  cold, 
ghostly  drive  with  the  hour  he  had  spent  in  the  elegant 
perfumed  boudoir,  by  the  side  of  the  fair,  frivolous  Pa- 
risienne.  He  closed  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  surrounding 
gloom,  and  conjured  up  the  statues,  flowers,  and  the  mo- 
ment when  the  graceful,  weeping  woman  reclined  before 
him  on  the  silken  causeuse. 

"I  am  a  fool,"  he  said  to  himself;  "to  what  phantom 
am  I  sacrificing  myself?  What  object,  what  reward,  can 
I  hope  for  in  return  for  my  superhuman  self-denial  ? 
None,  save  curses  from  the  lips  which  offered  me  bliss- 
ful happiness,  and  tears  of  sorrow  in  my  own  eyes.  Yes, 
she  was  right.  Who  will  lose  anything  if  we  are  happy  ? 
Shall  the  fairest  hours  of  my  youth  pass  away  in  con- 
suming, unsatisfied  longing? — shall  I  allow  my  studies  to 
suffer  from  this  secret  struggle,  and  draw  upon  myself  the 
disgrace  of  failing  in  the  examination  ?  Are  all  these 
things  outweighed  by  the  imaginary  duty  imposed  upon  me 
by  the  title  of  friend,  with  which  I  have  honored  her  fool  of 
a  husband,  and  whose  violation  he  will  notice  as  little  as 
the  most  conscientious  fulfillment  of  it?  Will  they  be 
outweighed  by  the  preservation  of  one's  self-respect,  and 
is  not  this,  after  all,  a  matter  of  opinion  ? — is  it  not  a  sort 
of  coquetting  with  one's  self?  What  will  all  my  self- 
esteem  avail,  if  the  world  calls  me  a  simpleton  because, 
under  the  ban  of  my  passion,  I  neglected  my  studies  and 
social  interests?  If  I  am  pointed  at  as  an  incapable  man, 
shall  I  not  sink  in  my  own  eyes  ?"  His  blood  grew 
more  and  more  fevered  as  his  reason  coldly  analyzed  what 
a  short  time  before  had  seemed  to  him  an  inviolable  duty. 
The  moral  stand  which  he  had  taken  in  his  conversation 
with  Madame  d'Anneaud  was  not  sufficiently  powerful 
to  protect  him  from  the  relapse  which  had  now  come. 
"  I  shall  never  rest,"  he  thought,  until  the  beautiful 
woman  is  mine,  then  only  I  shall  be  myself  again  !  My 


MENTAL   STRIFE.  11 

father  always  said  that  we  could  find  no  better  way  of 
defending  ourselves  against  the  power  a  woman  obtains 
over  our  hearts  than  by  degrading  her.  How  the  cold, 
shrewd  man  of  the  world  would  laugh  if  he  were  alive, 
and  could  see  how  I  am  toiling  to  keep  this  woman  in  a 
position  from  which  she  herself  wishes  to  descend  I — if  he 
could  see  how  my  love  hallows  one  who  does  not  desire 
to  be  held  sacred  !  And  her  husband !  Well,  if  he  dis- 
covers it  -I  would  give  him  satisfaction  by  a  few  ounces 
of  blood,  and  none  of  my  acquaintances  would  despise 
me  for  the  scandal  half  as  much  as  I  might  perhaps  de- 
spise myself." 

He  drew  out  his  watch  :  he  would  turn  back  if  there 
was  still  time.  It  was  too  late:  it  was  already  past  the 
hour  when  he  could  see  Madame  d'Anneaud  alone.  He 
clinched  his  teeth  and  hid  his  face  in  his  cloak,  as  if 
shivering  from  a  feverish  chill.  The  carriage  entered  a 
thick  wood,  and  at  last  stopped  before  a  large  iron  gate. 

"You  are  ill,  Herr  Baron,"  said  the  old  valet  de  charn- 
bre  as  Heinrich  entered  the  castle,  trembling  violently. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  feel  very  ill,"  he  replied,  passing  on  to  his 
sleeping-room  to  wait  with  burning  impatience  for  the 
following  day,  which  would  afford  him  an  opportunity  to 
atone  for  his  previous  reserve  in  the  arms  of  the  beauti- 
ful Madame  d'Anneaud.  But  the  next  morning  brought 
a  farewell  letter  from  the  lovely  Parisienne,  who  informed 
him  that  she  should  return  at  once  to  her  home  in  France. 
It  was  written  with  all  the  pride  and  anger  of  a  woman 
who  has  experienced  the  deepest  possible  humiliation ; 
who,  having  offered  more  than  was  desired  or  accepted, 
now  wishes  to  make  amends  for  her  too  great  willingness 
to  yield  by  a  double  measure  of  coldness  and  harshness. 
The  youth  of  twenty  was  still  too  great  a  novice  in  a 
woman's  words  to  perceive  that  this  cold  reserve  had  as 
little  real  foundation  as  the  pride  from  which  it  sprung, 
and  which  with  such  ladies  too  often  supplies  the  place 
of  true  honor.  Heinrich  was  hopelessly  crushed,  and  as 
everything  that  is  denied  us  doubly  excites  our  desires, 
the  indignant  woman  who  had  cast  him  off  was  far  more 
charming  in  his  eyes  than  when  she  had  pleaded  for  his 
love.  Remorse  and  passion  strove  in  his  heart  with  all 


12  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

the  fury  of  the  hot  blood  of  twenty.  It  was  the  flrst  con- 
nection of  such  a  nature  that  Heinrich  had  ever  formed, 
the  first  great  feeling  of  his  life.  Such  periods,  with  their 
secret  resolutions,  are  those  in  which  the  elements  of  the 
inner  life  are  analyzed,  separated  from  each  other,  or 
harmoniously  blended.  They  are  the  standard  for  the 
guidance  of  the  whole  life. 

Heinrich  von  Ottmar  had  been  educated  entirely  with- 
out love.  His  mother  died  before  he  reached  his  fifth 
year;  his  father,  a  heartless  aristocrat,  was  Grand  Stew- 
ard of  the  Court  of  the  Principality  of  H ,  where  Hein- 
rich was  now  to  commence  his  career,  and  all  the  efforts 
of  the  haughty,  ambitious  noble  were  directed  solely  to 
the  one  object  of  inoculating  his  son  with  the  ideas 
which,  as  he  believed,  had  made  him  great,  and  might 
prepare  a  similar  destiny  for  Heinrich.  He  was  one  of 
those  tyrannical  persons  who  make  even  those  they  wish 
to  benefit  unhappy,  because  they  take  no  account  of  in- 
dividuality, and  compel  the  victim  of  their  anxiety  to  be 
happy,  not  in  his  own,  but  their  way.  He  brought  only 
discord  into  Heinrich's  young  soul,  which  was  already 
sympathetically  attracted  by  the  development  of  the 
times,  for  while  he  succeeded  on  one  hand  in  rousing 
and  directing  it  entirely  towards  one  object, — that  of 
obtaining  power  and  position  on  the  loftiest  heights  of 
society, — he  could  not  suppress  his  leaning  towards  the 
struggles  for  freedom  peculiar  to  the  times,  which  were 
an  abomination  to  the  man  whose  inclinations  tended 
towards  ultramoutanism.  Here  also,  influenced  by  the 
illusion  that  everything  could  be  done  by  force,  there 
were  many  violent  scenes,  in  wrhich  he  threatened  the 
young  defenseless  boy  with  expulsion  from  his  home,  a 
father's  curse,  and  disinheritance.  But  no  opinions  are 
changed,  no  convictions  uprooted,  by  menaces  and  blows; 
they  are  at  most  forced  to  conceal  themselves  where  it 
is  impossible  to  struggle  with  them.  Heinrich  accus- 
tomed himself  to  be  silent  and  to  dissimulate  at  an  age 
when  he  was  incapable  of  understanding  the  moral 
wrong  and  evil  of  these  qualities.  Thus,  under  this 
father's  tyrannical  sway,  every  budding  germ  of  manly 
truth  was  suffocated,  and  shot  forth  unavailingly.  There 


MENTAL   STRIFE.  13 

are  two  results  from  such  a  course  of  training.  When 
the  parental  authority  asserts  itself  also  in  the  petty 
details  and  interests  of  life,  a  most  independent  and 
rugged  character  is  often  developed,  firmly  determined 
to  exchange  a  hated,  tyrannical  present  for  a  free  future, 
however  dark  it  may  be.  This  was  not  the  case  with 
Hemrich  von  Ottmar ;  on  the  contrary,  his  worldly-wise 
father  allowed  him  full  liberty  in  all  the  trifles  on  which 
youth  sets  so  high  a  value, — greater  liberty  than  a  more 
conscientious  man  would  have  done.  He  knew  how  to 
make  his  home-life  pleasant  enough  to  him,  to  induce 
him  to  fear  expulsion  from  it  as  the  greatest  misfortune ; 
thus  he  always  retained  his  influence,  and  the  youth, 
spoiled  by  the  glitter  and  pleasures  of  life,  bore  the 
intellectual  tyranny  of  his  father  because  it  allowed  him 
the  most  unlimited  personal  freedom,  and  learned  to 
yield  and  submit.  He  was  naturally  generous  and  warm- 
hearted, capable  of  enthusiasm  for  everything  good  and 
beautiful ;  but  under  these  circumstances  only  his  intel- 
lectual, not  his  moral,  powers  could  develop,  and  his 
affections  were  forced  to  pine  for  the  lack  of  food.  But 
his  hot  blood  asserted  its  rights,  and  as  it  found  in  his 
soul  no  lofty  ideal  against  which  its  strong,  youthful 
waves  might  dash,  it  lost  itself  in  the  broad,  shallow 
stream  of  sensuality.  His  father  held  the  opinion  that 
there  could  be  nothing  more  disadvantageous,  more  in- 
jurious to  the  thinker,  as  well  as  to  the  man  of  the  world, 
than  a  deep  feeling;  and  as  he  desired  to  make  his  son 
both,  if  possible,  he  wished  to  save  him  from  the  evil. 
He  also  knew  that  there  is  no  better  protection  from  it 
than  the  habit  of  frivolous,  careless  intercourse  with 
insignificant  natures,  and  therefore  cheerfully  endured 
this  phase  of  Heinrich's  character.  He  had  no  esteem 
for  women  himself,  and  it  seemed  to  him  a  matter  of  in- 
difference if  the  impulsive  youth  turned  where  favors 
were  granted  most  speedily,  and  where  he  unconsciously 
lost  his  reverence  for  the  sex.  Thus  the  blinded  father, 
with  his  inexorable  sternness  on  the  one  side,  converted 
a  noble,  many-sided  nature  into  an  ambiguous,  varying 
character,  and,  by  his  unprincipled  indulgence  on  the 
other  hand,  transformed  a  heart-craving  love  into  a  dis- 

2 


14  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

position  of  unbridled  license;  and  when,  in  Heinrich's 
nineteenth  year,  he  closed  his  eyes,  he  left  his  son  en- 
tangled in  a  confusion  of  inextricable  contradictions, 
with  an  incomprehensible  impulse  towards  goodness  and 
beauty  in  his  breast,  and  without  any  compass  to  enable 
him  to  obtain  them,  desiring  the  right  with  the  yet  un- 
destroyed  power  of  a  noble  nature,  but  defrauded  of  the 
power  of  doing  it ;  in  spite  of  his  father's  influence  a 
philanthropist,  and  through  it  an  egotist.  Thus  he  was 
a  mystery  to  himself,  whose  solution  he  expected  to  find 
in  life,  not  suspecting  with  what  sacrifice  he  should  be 
compelled  to  purchase  it.  Tortured  by  this  secret  con- 
flict, he  sought  refuge  and  support  in  science,  and  de- 
voted himself  to  the  study  of  political  law.  He  was  too 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  times  to  find  satis- 
faction for  his  ambition  solely  in  the  prerogatives  of  the 
nobility  and  a  mere  court  office.  True,  he  desired  a  posi- 
tion near  the  throne,  but  it  must  be  one  which  should 
have  some  political  importance,  and  deal  not  only  with 
the  organization  of  the  court,  but  of  the  state.  This 
was  the  highest  aim  which  appeared  before  him,  and  he 
labored  with  honest  zeal  to  reach  it.  Then  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Madame  d'Anneaud,  who  was  visiting 
a  married  relative  in  H .  She  was  the  first  highly  cul- 
tured woman  he  had  ever  known,  and  the  impression 
made  by  her  beauty,  united  to  the  polished  manners  and 
dainty  coquetry  of  an  aristocratic  Parisienne,  exerted  an 
intoxicating  influence  over  the  mind  and  imagination 
of  the  young  man.  Her  sudden  departure  inflamed  his 
passion  to  the  highest  pitch  ;  but  in  order  to  approach 
the  beautiful  woman  he  had  formed  a  friendship  with 
her  husband,  and  the  very  bond  which  had  brought  the 
lovers  together  now  formed  a  wall  of  separation  between 
them.  To  mislead  the  wife  of  a  confiding,  unsuspicious 
friend  was  an  act  of  dishonor  from  which  his  skeptical 
reason  recoiled.  In  this  conflict  month  after  month 
elapsed  in  idleness.  It  was  the  year  in  which  he  was 
preparing  for  his  examination;  he  felt  that  he  should 
fail  if  he  did  not  conquer  his  inertness  and  return  to  his 
studies.  He  had  been  too  long  accustomed  io  receive 
all  the  favors  of  love  to  be  able  to  endure  a  hopeless 


MENTAL   STRIFE.  15 

wish  and  longing  for  any  length  of  time.  He  must 
either  possess  Madame  d'Anneaud  or  avoid  her.  He 
had  chosen  the  latter  ere  he  knew  how  difficult  it  would 
be  to  deny  himself  anything  he  ardently  desired.  He 
wished  to  do  right ;  but  when  he  felt  the  bitterness  of 
such  self-denial  his  strength  to  carry  out  the  impulse 
failed,  for  he  was  already  far  too  great  an  egotist  to 
make  any  sacrifice,  and  without  sacrifice  there  is  no 
virtue. 

Thus  his  first  victory  over  himself  was  transformed 
into  a  defeat  when  Madame  d'Anneaud's  in^placable 
letter  robbed  him  of  the  ground  on  which  he  expected 
to  enjoy  with  her  the  fruits  of  a  shameful  peace.  Now, 
as  he  fancied,  he  had  lost  all,  committed  a  wrong  both 
against  his  beloved  and  himself,  for  which  he  must  strive 
to  atone  with  all  the  energy  of  passion.  He  drove  into 
the  city  to  see  Madame  d'Anneaud,  but  she  refused  to 
admit  him.  He  wrote  a  despairing  note  and  sent  it  to 
her  by  a  confidential  waiting-maid,  but  it  was  returned 
with  the  seal  unbroken. 

He  spent  three  days  in  the  most  terrible  excitement. 
The  blood  coursed  madly  through  his  veins ;  his  brain 
burned  and  whirled  with  plans  to  regain  the  lost  one 
and  prevent  her  return  to  Paris.  On  the  third  Monsieur 
d'Anneaud  called  to  bid  him  farewell,  complaining  bit- 
terly of  the  caprices  of  his  wife,  who  had  suddenly 
dismissed  her  whole  household,  would  see  no  one,  and 
wished  to  set  off  at  once  for  Paris.  Everything  around 
him  grew  dim  as  he  heard  these  words;  his  heart 
throbbed  as  if  it  would  burst,  and  when  his  friend  had 
taken  leave  he  turned  deadly  pale  and  sank  exhausted 
upon  the  sofa.  Now  for  the  first  time  he  felt  what,  in 
the  suspense  of  the  last  few  days,  he  had  not  heeded, 
that  he  was  ill ;  but  he  dared  not  yield  to  it.  Madame 
d'Anneaud  was  to  set  out  that  very  evening.  The 
thought  drove  him  back  to  the  city,  that  he  might  at 
least  watch  her  window  and  witness  her  departure.  She 
saw  him,  and  as  she  entered  her  carriage  cast  a  long 
and,  as  it  appeared  to  him,  sorrowful  glance  at  him. 

He  returned  to  the  castle  wild  with  despair.  What 
was  he  to  do  now,  follow  her,  perhaps  to  be  again  re- 


16  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

pulsed?  sacrifice  his  scientific  studies  at  the  decisive 
time  of  the  examination  to  rush  around  Paris  imploring 
love,  perchance  in  vain  ?  It  seemed  too  useless  and 
degrading  for  him  to  resolve  upon  it  without  further 
reflection.  He  strove  with  superhuman  exertion  to  busy 
himself  in  his  work;  in  vain,  his  thoughts  refused  to 
obey  his  will.  Day  and  night  he  sat  over  his  books, 
gazing  with  burning  eyes  and  bewildered  brain  at  the 
letters,  to  him  so  unmeaning  and  disconnected,  while 
the  maddest  longing  raged  in  his  panting  breast.  In 
this  torturing,  mental  struggle  his  bodily  health  failed 
more  and  more ;  the  illness  which  he  had  felt  ever  since 
his  first  great  emotion  made  itself  the  more  apparent 
the  less  he  spared  himself.  At  last  he  yielded,  and  be- 
came the  prey  of  a  most  violent  feverish  attack.  The 
physician  who  was  summoned  shrugged  his  shoulders 
thoughtfully,  for  the  young  man's  condition  afforded 
every  symptom  that  nervous  fever  was  to  be  appre- 
hended. 


II. 

DUAL   APPARITIONS. 

THE  fever  increased  day  by  day.  Heinrich  became 
very  delirious  and  required  incessant  watching.  On  one 
of  his  worst  nights  the  nurse,  overpowered  by  fatigue, 
fell  asleep.  The  patient  seemed  to  become  more  quiet 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  gazed  with  half-closed  eyes  at 
the  dull  glimmer  of  the  night-lamp.  For  a  time  in  his 
stupefaction  he  followed  a  fixed  train  of  ideas, — it  was 
the  conflict  between  duty  and  inclination  which  had 
made  him  so  ill.  His  imagination  incessantly  painted 
pictures  which  his  conscience  destroyed.  He  lamented 
that  he  did  not  possess  that  thoughtless  frivolity  which 
receives  every  enjoyment  as  a  gift  from  the  loving  Father, 
without  doubt,  struggle,  or  conflict  with  what  we  term 
conscience,  duty,  honor.  "  Oh,  God  1  Thou  who  hast 


DUAL  APPARITIONS.  If 

given  me  life,''  he  murmured,  "  what  didst  thou  bestow 
in  putting  me  under  the  dominion  of  a  power  which 
feeds  upon  the  blood  of  my  murdered  joys,  and  absorbs 
the  sweetest  marrow  of  this  existence  !  The  only  happy 
natures  are  those  which  can  so  divide  intellect  and  feel- 
ing that  they  can  no  longer  bias  each  other.  Oh,  would 
that  I  might  also  !" 

Amid  such  thoughts  he  fell  into  that  feverish,  half 
slumber  in  which  dreams  and  reality  are  often  so  strangely 
blended.  We  know  that  we  are  in  bed,  know  that  we 
are  dreaming,  and  yet  cannot  prevent  the  creations  of 
our  fancy  from  appearing  before  us,  surrounding  us  like 
substantial  forms,  and  arbitrarily  forcing  their  existence 
upon  us.  Such  was  the  case  with  Heinrich.  His  mind 
was  busily  weaving  the  torn  threads  of  his  thoughts 
into  fairy-like  figures,  at  first  quaint  like  arabesques,  but 
by  degrees  revealing  a  strange  secret  connection.  The 
faces  became  more  and  more  distinct  as  his  conscious- 
ness of  the  outside  world  grew  dim.  He  still  felt 
vaguely  that  egotism  and  ideality  were  waging  a  fierce 
battle  in  his  heart,  and  by  degrees  the  ideas  he  could  no 
longer  think  of  in  the  abstract  assumed  a  bodily  form. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  in  the  room  which  terri- 
fied him, — something  that  crawled  and  glided  over  the 
floor.  "  Do  not  fear,"  it  whispered  hypocritically.  "  I 
do  not  come  to  destroy  but  to  aid.  I  am  the  impulse 
of  self-preservation,  and  when  in  aristocratic  society  I 
cultivate  my  mind  and  call  myself  Egotism."  The  shape 
writhed  and  glided  nearer,  while  over  Heinrich's  head 
sounded  a  melodious  yet  powerful  rustling  of  wings, 
and  a  voice  from  above  rang  like  the  low  notes  of  an 
organ,  "  Fear  not,  I  am  the  Genius  of  the  Ideal,  and  will 
save  you." 

Heinrich  gasped  for  breath,  he  feared  the  whispering, 
ghostly  apparitions  that  surrounded  him,  his  breast  and 
neck  seemed  bound  with  heavy  cords,  he  strove  to  cry 
out  but  his  voice  refused  to  obey  him,  he  tried  to  open 
his  eyes  but  in  vain  ;  he  only  felt  the  overmastering  pres- 
ence of  the  two  original  elements  of  humanity,  and  his 
ear  thrilled  at  their  words.  "  See  what  cowardly  mon- 
sters you  men  are !"  laughed  the  fiend  on  the  floor.  "You 
2* 


18  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

carry  hideous  forms  within  you  and  think  you  imperiously 
rule  them,  but  recoil  in  horror  when  you  have  conjured 
them  from  the  secret  depths  of  your  hearts.  I  was 
nearer  to  you  when  in  your  own  breast  than  I  am  now, 
yet  you  fostered  and  cherished  me ;  now  that  I  appear 
before  you,  you  fear  me." 

The  voice  above  murmured :  "  Compose  yourself,  we 
are  only  the  powers  you  have  felt  struggling  within  your 
soul,  but  now  we  have  united  in  the  common  object  of 
gratifying  your  wishes,  for  your  folly  will  never  be  satis- 
fied until  you  perceive  the  vanity  of  your  desires.  Your 
wishes  shall  be  fulfilled,  that  you  may  learn  to  perceive 
in  what  the  end  of  life  and  true  happiness  consist." 

"  Oh,  mighty  beings  1"  groaned  Heinrich,  "  we  are  so 
proud  of  what  we  accomplish  by  your  aid,  and  yet  it  is 
we  who  serve  you  while  you  do  everything.  What  sus- 
tains us,  that  in  our  weakness  we  do  not  fall  helpless 
victims  to  one  or  the  other  of  you  ?" 

"The  Hand  which  rules  over  all  things  and  appoints  to 
each  its  bounds,"  answered  the  Genius  of  the  Ideal.  "It 
has  so  wisely  apportioned  the  powers  of  evil  that  we 
exert  an  equal  influence  over  the  human  race.  As  the 
law  of  attraction  holds  worlds  in  their  courses,  our  oppos- 
ing strength  maintains  the  right  balance  in  your  minds 
if  all  the  elements  are  properly  blended  ;  but  sometimes 
that  is  not  the  case,  then  your  lives  take  their  direction 
from  the  strongest,  for  spirit  strives  towards  spiritual 
things,  outweighs  the  earthly  nature,  releases  itself  from 
the  world,  and  follows  my  guidance  above." 

"  But  the  earthly  nature  tends  towards  the  earth," 
grinned  Egotism,  "and  more  frequently  you  sink  down." 

"  Thus,"  said  both,  "  you  human  beings  preserve  the 
equilibrium  between  mind  and  matter, — therefore  you  can 
neither  withdraw  from  the  world,"  cried  Egotism, — "  nor 
be  dragged  down  by  it,"  said  the  Genius  of  the  Ideal. 

"Oh, you  are  right!"  murmured  Heinrich;  "but  I  have 
lost  this  equilibrium." 

"  You  have  not  lost  it,"  replied  the  Genius  of  the 
Ideal,  "the  divine  and  earthly  natures  are  striving  in  you 
with  equal  power  :  that  you  may  not  arbitrarily  crush 
either,  we  wish  to  separate.  You  shall  lead  a  twofold 


DUAL   APPARITIONS.  19 

life.  Passion  shall  not  disturb  intellect,  and  intellect 
shall  not  destroy  pleasure." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  Heinrich,  eagerly,  "  has  the  dear 
God  sent  you  to  me  to  bestow  the  whole  precious  sub- 
stance of  life?  How  has  such  favor  fallen  to  my  lot?" 

"You  will  learn  some  day  that  God  has  reserved 
greater  mercies  than  these,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  now,  you  crawling  creature,  what  do  you  want 
here  while  this  divine  being  is  holding  converse  with 
me  ?"  said  Heinrich,  proudly. 

"  You  will  henceforth  have  little  use  for  him,"  replied 
Egotism ;  "  it  is  my  service  you  need  first,  and  /  must 
gratify  your  wishes.  I  am  a  merry  companion :  you  need 
not  shun  me.  I  appear  in  constantly  varying  forms  :  now 
a  usurer  paying  like  a  hardened  miser,  now  an  elegant 
spendthrift  throwing  money  away  with  lavish  hands ; 
now  secretly  murdering  a  helpless  enemy,  now  wrapping 
myself  in  the  shining  armor  of  duty  and  slaying  thou- 
sands; now  with  an  honest,  enthusiastic  manner  gliding 
through  the  darkness  to  the  innocent  young  maiden, 
ruling  over  hearts  and  nations,  kneeling  before  thrones 
and  altars, — who  knows  all  the  myriad  forms  I  assume  ? 
If  the  spirit  above  your  head  did  not  work  against  me, 
the  world  would  be  filled  with  my  masks.  Where  the 
heart  and  intellect  are  equal  I  prosper  least,  for  then 
man  is  a  harmonious  creature,  as  his  Maker  intended. 
Still,  I  often  succeed  in  separating  them,  and  then  my 
power  is  strengthened.  It  shall  be  so  with  you.  Soul, 
divide  into  two  portions  !  Part,  mind  and  feeling,  move 
asunder  and  form  two  wholes  1  Heinrich,  have  your 
wish,  possess  a  double  nature  with  a  mind  destitute  of 
sensibility,  and  a  soulless  heart." 

Heinrich's  breast  heaved  violently,  his  heart  throbbed 
with  redoubled  speed,  every  vein  swelled  to  bursting. 
Pleasure  and  pain  thrilled  his  frame ;  by  degrees  some- 
thing within  him  seemed  to  be  tearing  itself  away,  inex- 
pressible grief  overwhelmed  him.  A  voic^n  his  heart 
murmured,  "  Farewell."  "  Farewell,"  answered  every 
nerve ;  the  chasm  in  his  soul  yawned  wider,  as  if  a  burn- 
ing wound  had  passed  through  his  nature.  Tears  of  inex- 
plicable, sorrow  gushed  from  his  eyes,  and  a  cry  of  agony 


20  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

at  last  burst  from  his  lips  as  he  felt  that  he  was  leaving  his 
body.  He  now  stood  face  to  face  with  himself,  exchang- 
ing glances  of  astonishment.  All  anguish  was  over,  and 
he  felt  free  and  careless.  "  I  have  been  born  again  !"  he 
cried,  in  delight. 

But  the  Genius  of  the  Ideal  answered, — "  You  have 
only  divided  your  nature.  Your  desire  is  accomplished, 
and  will  last  until  you  no  longer  wish  it.  Woe  be- 
tide you  if  you  remain  in  this  condition  and  no  longer 
call  upon  me  for  aid  !  Egotism  has  produced  this  sepa- 
ration, he  will  henceforth  be  your  companion;  cold  reason 
and  coarse  sensuality  will  make  you  their  prey.  But 
if  from  beautiful  eyes  the  pure  ruy  of  a  noble  soul  fulls 
xfpon  you,  let  it  enter  your  heart,  it  is  I  who  command 
it  to  shine  upon  you.  If  an  earnest  voice  strikes  upon 
your  ear  in  tones  of  warning,  heed  it,  it  is  I  who  speak  to 
you;  and  if  you  are  at  last  convinced  that  everything 
done  and  enjoyed  without  me  is  empty,  turn  to  me  and  I 
will  guide  you  back  to  the  source  of  happiness."  Then 
turning  to  the  divided  natures,  the  vision  cried:  "Be 
friends;  you  are  now  two  forms,  but  you  possess  but  one 
life,  therefore  remain  at  peace,  and  take  my  blessing," 
exclaimed  Egotism.  "Enjoy,"  he  cried,  turning  to  sensu- 
ality. "Attain,"  he  said  to  intellect.  "But  remember," 
said  the  Genius  of  the  Ideal,  "that  the  end  of  life  is 
neither  to  enjoy  nor  obtain,  but  to  be  useful  and  accom- 
plish good  works."  With  these  words  the  apparitions 
disappeared. 

The'  two  shapes  were  alone.  The  first  at  last  broke 
the  silence.  "I  shall  dub  myself  Henri,  that  is  what 
Madame  d'Anneaud  used  to  call  me,  and  French  names 
give  one  better  luck  with  women." 

"  I  will  remain  Heinrich,"  said  the  other. 

"  Give  me  your  hand  1"  exclaimed  Henri.  "  I  will  enjoy 
for  you,  you  shall  labor  for  me,  and  when  I  am  about  to 
commit  an  act  of  folly  you  can  warn  me."  So  saying  he 
merrily  compared  himself  with  his  image.  "  I  don't 
doubt  that  we  shall  make  our  fortune.  To  be  useful  and 
accomplish  good  works  the  object  of  life  !  Bah  !  the  ob- 
ject of  life  is  to  be  happy,  and  only  success  and  pleasure 
can  give  happiness.  'For  myself,'  is  henceforth  my  motto  1" 


DUAL   APPARITIONS.  21 

"  And  mine,"  cried  Heinricli :  "  it  is  the  only  sound 
philosophy." 

Just  then  the  nurse  awoke,  and  sprang  from  his  chair 
in  terror,  for  his  patient  was  not  ia  bed,  but  standing 
before  his  long  dressing-glass,  looking  into  it  and  talking 
to  his  reflected  image  in  the  greatest  excitement.  It  was 
with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  would  allow  himself  to 
be  led  away  from  the  mirror  and  put  to  bed.  His  delirium 
had  reached  its  height,  and  showed  him  the  true  state  of 
his  own  soul  in  the  form  of  an  allegory.  That  which  his 
reason  had  never  been  able  to  solve  was  depicted  before 
him  in  bodily  form,  by  the  divining  power  of  the  in- 
stincts of  feverish  hallucinations  ;  and  thus  this  vision 
was  the  true  picture  of  his  life,  and  the  separation  he  had 
witnessed  only  the  symbol  of  his  own  secret  struggles. 


After  three  months  of  great  suffering,  Ottmar  at  last 
recovered,  but  so  slowly  that  the  physician  forbade  him 
to  resume  his  studies,  and  advised  him  to  seek  health 
and  diversion  for  his  thoughts  in  travel. 

As  he  heard  that  Madame  d'Anneaud  was  still  living 
in  Paris,  he  hastened  thither  to  resume  his  former  re- 
lations with  her.  But  here,  for  the  first  time,  the  signs 
of  his  twofold  nature  became  apparent.  The  glittering, 
alluring  form  in  which  materialism  clothes  itself  on  the 
one  hand,  intellectual  suggestions  on  the  other  hand,  and 
French  frivolity,  did  not  fail  to  produce  their  effect.  The 
man  of  reason  and  sensuality  developed  such  rude  con- 
trasts of  character  that  he  became  what  he  had  beheld 
in  his  dream,  "Heinrich"  the  cold  thinker,  and  "Henri" 
the  careless  bon  vivant  in  one  person,  changing  as 
often  and  as  suddenly  as  if  they  were  two  separate  indi- 
viduals forced  to  inhabit  the  same  body.  He  was  proud 
of  this  transformation,  for  he  could  now  enjoy  and  obtain 
everything:  but  happy  he  was  not.  The  same  thing  be- 
fell Ottmar  that  has  happened  to  so  many  others  in  whom 
the  strange  wonder  of  a  secret  rupture  has  taken  place. 
Where  intellect  reigned  it  required  only  cold  knowledge 
and  understanding ;  where  feeling  ruled  it  degenerated 


22  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

into  a  burning  fire,  which,  when  the  moment  of  extinction 
arrived,  left  nothing  but  emptiness  and  indifference. 
Thus  by  turns  both  extremes  took  possession  of  the 
pliant  body,  and  his  beautiful  feature's,  gradually  mould- 
ing themselves  according  to  the  division  in  the  soul,  now 
bore  the  impress  of  the  astute  thinker,  and  anon  the  win- 
ning charm  of  the  lover.  He  possessed  one  of  those 
temperaments  at  which  one  gazes  as  a  "  marvel  of 
genius,"  which  exert  an  alluring  charm  over  women, 
who  perceive  in  them  a  "  demoniac  spell,"  a  tempting 
enigma  which  irresistibly  occupies  their  thoughts,  but  in 
whose  solution  many  a  woman's  heart  has  slowly  bled  to 
death. 

At  the  same  time  he  was  what  the  world  calls  a  man 
of  honor.  As  social  integrity  may  be  a  result  of  clever- 
ness, he  never  allowed  himself  to  be  in  fault  in  his  civil 
or  social  position,  for  there  the  intellectual  Heinrich 
ruled.  The  errors  which  the  sensual,  elegant  Henri 
secretly  committed,  if  detected,  were  not  ascribed  to  him. 
There  were  and  are  too  many  such  natures  for  society 
not  to  stretch  its  very  relative  standard  of  morality  for 
the  sake  of  their  good  qualities. 

Everywhere  he  was  the  centre  of  interest, — sought, 
petted,  and  honored.  His  many-sided  character  attracted 
the  most  opposite  temperaments;  yet  he  was  unhappy, 
life  was  shallow  and  wearisome. 

There  is  an  invisible  something,  on  which  human  hap- 
piness depends.  We  have  soul  organs,  by  means  of 
which  we  receive  and  impart  the  inner  world  of  sensuous 
feeling, — organs  which  we  call  organs  of  the  heart ;  and 
those  of  Henri  were  very  active  when  passion  was  once 
aroused.  We  have  also  organs  to  unite  us  with  the 
spiritual  world, — organs  of  thought, — and  Heinrich  pos- 
sessed them  in  the  highest  perfection.  But  we  have  besides 
these  an  organ  that  forms  the  bond  between  the  other  two, 
like  a  connecting  .vein,  through  which  the  streams  of 
thought  and  feeling  flow  into  each  other,  and  which  car- 
ries the  mingled  tide  through  the  entire  being.  This  is 
the  emotional  nature.  Where  the  heart  and  intellect  are 
not  peculiarly  disunited,  the  emotional  nature  must  exert 
an  influence  ;  it  is  the  organ  by  means  of  which  we  make 


DUAL  APPARITIONS.  23 

our  simple  every-day  life  pleasant,  endurable,  if  possible 
poetical.  This  tie  between  the  heart  and  intellect  was  of 
course  torn  asunder  by  the  division  that  had  taken  place 
in  Ottmar,  and  thus  he  not  only  felt  painfully  the  eternal 
dissatisfaction  of  both  natures,  but  quiet  every-day  life 
lost  all  charm  and  value,  and  found  him  cold  and  unsym- 
pathizing.  He  desired  great  contrasts,  great  passions, 
or  great  problems.  It  was  only  when  these  occupied  his 
thoughts  that  the  two  extremes  of  his  nature  could  assert 
themselves.  Then  only  he  felt  at  ease. 

Henri  sought  the  material  pleasures,  which  are  always 
the  same,  and  always  result  in  emptiness.  Heinrich 
unceasingly  pursued  the  course  of  ambition,  which  is 
ever  renewed  just  as  we  believe  we  have  reached  the 
goal.  Between  the  two  Ottmar  found  nothing  but  satiety. 
He  now  had  what  he  had  so  eagerly  desired, — two  lives, 
two  natures,  in  one  person.  True,  he  could  no  longer 
suffer,  but  neither  could  he  enjoy;  he  could  neither  love 
nor  hate.  Henri's  feelings  were  only  instincts,  and  his 
thoughts  the  refinement  of  sensuality  ;  to  which  Heinrich 
sometimes  lent  a  loftier  language  when  in  the  presence 
of  noble  women,  in  whom  his  shallow  frivolity  would 
have  excited  only  repugnance.  Ottmar,  as  on  the  night 
of  his  delirium,  fancied,  with  vain  satisfaction,  that  he 
had  been  born  again ;  but  he  had,  in  truth,  only  divided 
himself.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  possessed  a  twofold 
nature,  and  must  now  enjoy  life  doubly.  But  the  law 
of  true  humanity  cannot  be  denied  without  rebuke.  He 
had  erred.  Instead  of  two  natures  there  were  only  two 
disjointed  halves;  instead  of  enjoying  a  double  share,  he 
enjoyed  but  half,  for  what  pleased  Henri  Heinrich  did 
not  feel,  and  what  Heinrich  obtained  was  useless  to 
Henri. 

This  was  not  yet  clear  to  Ottmar.  He  only  knew  that 
the  apparitions  had  given  what  he  desired,  and  did  not 
understand  why  he  was  not  happy.  He  had  not  com- 
prehended their  sneers,  like  all  who,  in  the  impetuous 
whirl  of  life,  hear  the  prophetic  voices  of  their  own 
breasts,  and  first  understand  them  when  their  predictions 
begin  to  be  fulfilled. 

In  Paris,  Ottmar  gave  free  course  to  his  inclinations, 


24  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

and  for  some  time  lived  in  intimate  relations  with  Madame 
d'Anueaud.  But  the  beautiful  woman  soon  became 
wearisome  to  him,  and  he  deserted  her  for  a  fairer  face, 
for  faith,  as  a  matter  of  course,  had  become  an  impossi- 
bility to  this  nature. 

Then  he  hurried  from  face  to  face,  exhausting  one 
empty  pleasure  after  another,  until  at  last,  after  a  year 
of  idle  dissipation,  ambition  obtained  the  upper  hand, 
and  intellect  asserted  its  claims.  He  would,  as  he  said, 
try  philosophy  for  a  time,  and  returned  to  Germany. 
Another  life  now  began.  "Quick!  You  must  do  some- 
thing,— accomplish  something,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"But  how?  of  what  nature?"  In  the  whirl  of  empty 
pleasures  he  had  become  too  superflcial  and  frivolous  to 
recommence  his  neglected  scientific  studies  with  the  re- 
doubled industry  which,  after  so  long  an  interruption, 
they  required;  he  could  no  longer  adopt  any  regular  pro- 
fession. By  means  of  his  great  ability,  favored  by  his 
position,  he  did  and  learned  what  and  where  he  pleased. 
As  he  began  too  much  at  the  same  time,  he  acquired 
nothing  thoroughly,  and  obtained  that  so-called  cosmo- 
politan education  which  dabbles  in  all  colors,  is  skilled  in 
all  branches,  whose  variety  often  excites  admiraliun,  but 
cannot  be  of  any  practical  value.  For  five  years  he 
visited  universities,  heard  lectures  from  the  most  distin- 
guished professors,  and  passed  in  review  the  various 
sciences.  None  satisfied  him,  for  none  aided  him  to 
reach  the  goal  of  his  ambition  with  sufficient  rapidity. 

At  last  the  years  of  his  early  youth  passed  away,  and 
he  had  as  yet  obtained  nothing.  Insignificant  fellow- 
students  went  out  into  the  world  to  enter  upon  the  hon- 
orable career  of  government  service,  while  he  did  not 
even  know  to  what  branch  it  would  be  best  to  devote 
himself  in  order  to  become  a  man  of  mark. 

He  wrote  several  semi-scientific,  semi-poetical  works. 
The  critics  acknowledged  their  merit,  but  they  were  not 
read.  The  scientific  portion  was  too  commonplace  for 
learned  men,  the  poetry  too  dry  for  ordinary  people ;  for, 
in  ppite  of  his  genius,  Heinricli  was  no  poet.  His  nature 
lacked  that  which  alone  can  carry  away  the  masses,  and 
which  no  thought  can  supply, — heart  impulse;  and  he 


FROM  FALSEHOOD    TO   FALSEHOOD.  25 

did  not  succeed  in  becoming  popular.  An  earnest,  unin- 
terrupted course  of  study  would,  in  a  very  short  time, 
have  made  him  competent  to  enter  upon  some  settled 
career;  but  too  frequently  Heinrich's  assiduous  industry 
yielded  to  Henri's  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  the  wearied 
frame  threatened  to  give  way  under  this  constant  change 
from  one  extreme  to  the  other. 

When  he  had  at  last  exhausted  all  the  intellectual  and 
material  treasures  of  his  native  land  without  the  slightest 
profit  to  himself,  some  secret  power  again  drove  him  forth 
to  seek  in  a  foreign  country  the  happiness  he  could  not 
find  at  home.  He  went  to  Italy. 


III. 

PROM  FALSEHOOD  TO  FALSEHOOD. 

ON  the  way  to  Rome  he  met  a  gentleman  whose 
striking  appearance  attracted  his  attention.  Heinrich 
thought  he  had  never  seen  a  handsomer  and  at  the  same 
time  more  intellectual  countenance,  and  a  conversation 
arose  between  them  which  greatly  interested  Heinrich, 
and  very  soon  led  him  to  make  disclosures  about  himself 
and  his  course  of  life,  to  which  the  stranger  listened  with 
an  attention  extremely  flattering  to  Ottmar's  self-love, 
and  entered,  with  affable  condescension,  into  every  sub- 
ject introduced  by  the  latter.  He  appeared  to  be  so 
familiar  with  every  sphere  of  life,  all  the  relations  of 
European  courts,  that  Heinrich  took  him  for  a  diplomat, 
and  eagerly  gathered  up  all  the  information  he  commu- 
nicated, because  it  always  bore  the  stamp  of  accurate, 
positive  knowledge.  But  the  stranger  had  so  much  noble 
enthusiasm,  his  language  was  often  so  eloquent,  that 
Heinrich  frequently  felt  tempted  to  think  him  an  artist, 
and  his  curiosity  increased  more  and  more  when  he 
baffled,  with  consummate  skill,  every  effort  to'  turn  the 
conversation  upon  himself.  The  hours  flew  by  Heinrich 
B  3 


26  -4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

like  the  scenes  through  which  he  was  passing,  but  he 
noticed  nothing  to  which  the  stranger  did  not  call  his 
attention.  He  had  eyes  and  ears  only  for  him.  He 
knew  not  which  he  most  admired, — the  comprehensive 
knowledge  of  society,  the  elegant  modes  of  expression, 
or  the  aristocratic,  yet  winning,  manners  of  this  myste- 
rious man.  The  latter  himself  felt  an  increasing  in- 
terest in  his  young  companion,  and  when  the  gigantic 
dome  of  Saint  Peter's  rose  before  them  Heinrich  eagerly 
expressed  his  regret  that  the  delightful  journey  was 
over. 

"Will  you  seek  me  out  in  Rome?"  asked  the  stranger. 

"Most  gladly!"  cried  Heinrich,  with  delight. 

"Very  well;  then  promise' me  to  come  to-morrow  after 
early  mass." 

"Certainly;  but  how  shall  I  find  you?" 

"Ask  for  Father  Severinus,  the  Prefect  of  the  Colle- 
gium Germanicum." 

Heinrich  gazed  at  him-  in  unconcealed  amazement. 

"You  are " 

"  A  Jesuit,"  said  the  priest,  laughing  ;  and  left  Hein- 
rich to  his  speechless  astonishment. 

The  short  disenchantment  the  latter  experienced  very 
soon  yielded  to  redoubled  admiration  for  the  remarkable 
things  this  man  had  accomplished  in  spite  of  the  narrow 
sphere  to  which  he  was  limited  by  his  position  as  a 
priest.  His  father's  predilection  for  the  Jesuits  recurred 
to  his  mind,  and  many  tales  of  the  wondrous  labors  and 
successes  of  this  order  no  longer  seemed  so  incredible 
and  exaggerated  as  before.  He  felt  a  desire  to  know 
more  of  the  institution  which  cultivated  such  remarkable 
charms  of  mind  and  person,  and  did  not  fail  to  go  to  the 
Casa  al  Gesu  the  following  day.  The  reception  he  met 
with  far  surpassed  all  bis  anticipations. 

Father  Severinus  introduced  him  to  the  other  chiefs  of 
the  order,  and  when  at  last  the  General  himself  requested 
him  to  pay  him  a  visit  there  was  not  a  single  point  in 
which  Heinrich's  vanity  was  not  flattered'  and  his  curi- 
osity excited  to  the  utmost. 

The  visit  to  the  General  ended  with  an  invitation  to 
dinner,  and  during  the  meal  the  latter  appointed  a  certain 


FROM  FALSEHOOD    TO   FALSEHOOD.  2T 

day  upon  which  •  Heinrich  should  be  his  guest  every 
week. 

Ottmar  had  never  before  been  so  well  entertained 
among  men,  and  soon  found  himself  nowhere  so  agree- 
ably situated  as  when  with  Father  Severinus  and  his 
companions.  The  holy  fathers  procured  for  him  every 
pleasure  that  a  stranger  can  enjoy  in  a  new  place.  They 
showed  him  an  admirable  selection  of  the  glories  of  Rome, 
afforded  him  an  opportunity  to  see  many  curiosities  which 
are  usually  inaccessible  to  strangers,  were  always  at  hand 
when  he  needed  them,  and  did  not  appear  to  be  in  the 
world  when  he  did  not  require  their  services.  Under  their 
guidance  he  obtained  a  sight  of  the  treasures  in  the  library 
of  the  Vatican,  and  they  also  afforded  him  a  glimpse  of 
their  own  archives  ;  but  as  soon  as  his  desire  for  knowl- 
edge was  excited,  and  he  wished  to  penetrate  farther,  the 
interesting  matter  was  withdrawn  because  it  was  allowed 
only  to  the  actual  adherents  of  Jesuitism.  Yet  the  fathers 
imparted  much  confidential  and  extremely  useful  informa- 
tion, by  means  of  which  they  gave  him  to  understand 
that  they  were  in  possession  of  still  more  important  se- 
crets, into  which,  however,  only  actual  students  of  the 
institution,  whose  loyalty  to  the  order  had  been  severely 
tested,  could  be  initiated. 

Heinrich  at  last  could  not  resist  inquiring  into  the 
conditions  upon  which  he  might  be  considered  a  tried 
servant  of  the  order  and  be  permitted  to  share  these 
favors.  For  their  agents  in  the  world,  these  consisted  of 
a  novitiate  of  one  year  for  the  trial  and  practice  of  obedi- 
ence, and  another  year  of  voluntary  residence  and  study 
in  the  college.  As  he  already  knew  more  than  was  taught 
in  the  Gerrnanicum  and  Propaganda,  he,  of  course,  did  not 
think  of  going  through  a  school  course;  but  the  thought 
entered  his  mind  that  at  the  cost  of  a  novitiate,  which  he 
already  perceived  would  not  be  too  strict,  he  could  obtain 
information  which  might  be  of  the  greatest  use  to  him  in 
his  career.  He  did  not  doubt  that  no  one  knew  the  world 
and  mankind  better  than  the  all-observant,  inquiring 
Jesuits;  and  they  did  not  neglect  to  represent  the  princi- 
pal European  states  and  courts  as  a  department  of  their 
restless  and  manifold  branches  of  labor.  He  was  assured 


28  -4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

that  he  could  graduate  from  no  better  school  of  diplomacy 
than  the  quiet  Jesuit  convent,  and  it  seemed  to  him  well 
worth  the  trouble  of  shutting  himself  up  here  for  a  year, 
to  emerge  such  a  brilliant  personage  as  his  admired  Sev- 
erinus.  The  priests  gave  him  plainly  to  understand  that 
his  novitiate  would  be  only  a  name,  for  they  had  too  much 
knowledge  of  human  nature  to  repel  a  young  man  of  the 
world,  like  Ottmar,  by  the  prospect  of  monastic  austeri- 
ties. This  promised  indulgence  was  by  no  means  con- 
trary to  the  rules  of  the  order,  since  Ottmar  was  not  to 
be  trained  for  priesthood,  but  the  world,  and  therefore 
must  be  considered  as  a  guest  rather  than  a  pupil  of  the 
Germanicuui.  He  possessed  the  entire  confidence  of  the 
fathers,  for  first  from  courtesy  to  his  hospitable  hosts, 
and  afterwards  from  prudence,  he  had  been  silent  in  re- 
gard to  his  differences  of  opinion,  but  showed  a  sincere 
appreciation  of  some  of  their  institutions,  which  they 
naturally  mistook  for  devotion  to  the  order.  The  princi- 
pal reason  was  that  his  father  was  known  to  have  been  a 
devout  Catholic,  a  circumstance  which  so  completely  de- 
ceived the  holy  fathers,  that  Heinrich  had  no  occasion 
to  do  anything  but  keep  silence  and  submit  patiently  to 
the  rules  of  the  order  to  enjoy  all  the  advantages  of  this 
rare  confidence.  The  temptation  was  too  great,  he  had 
been  too  long  accustomed  to  yield  to  every  caprice,  every 
fancy,  to  be  punctilious  about  the  concessions  of  bis  own 
convictions  he  would  be  compelled  to  make,  and  decided 
to  enter  the  Casa  al  Gesu.  The  Jesuits  were  extremely 
delighted  with  their  new  conquest ;  for  they  hoped  to 
make  the  unusually  gifted  young  man  an  agent  for  Ger- 
many, particularly  the  Protestant  court  of  H ,  which 

had  hitherto  been  closed  against  their  influence.  They 
willingly  acceded  to  Rein-rich's  desire  to  enter  the  college 
under  another  name;  for  it  was  of  importance  to  them 
that  his  stay  should  remain  unknown,  that  he  might  after- 
wards act  in  their  cause  with  fewer  impediments. 

Thus  the  first  step  was  taken  on  the  path  of  deceit 
which  his  blind  egotism  considered  the  speediest  road  to 
the  goal,  and  upon  which  a  man  always  enters  when  he 
lacks  the  self-denial  to  make  his  opinions  his  rule  of  con- 
duct. Many  a  favorite  of  fortune  is  a  miserable  egotist, 


FROM  FALSEHOOD   TO   FALSEHOOD.  29 

and  passes  for  a  man  of  honor  only  because  his  fate  has 
never  chanced  to  bring  him  in  conflict  with  his  selfishness ; 
had  such  been  the  case  he  would  quickly  have  lost  his 
cheaply-won  fame.  Thus  it  fared  with  Heinrich  at  a 
time  when  his  acts  and  conduct  were  not  yet  burdened 
with  any  responsibility  or  visible  result.  His  proceeding 
had  no  objective  importance  because  he  had  not  as  yet 
gained  any  influence  as  a  public  character,  or  formed  any 
political  relations.  In  his  view  he  committed  no  treason 
against  the  party  to  which  in  his  own  mind,  though  not 
formally,  he  belonged,  by  depriving  it  for  another  year  of 
the  man  who  was  nothing  to  it.  The  point  in  question 
did  not  concern  an  actual  change  of  opinion, — for  when  he 
once  entered  the  world  he  would  be  faithful  to  his  long- 
chosen  colors, — but  the  attainment  of  a  purely  personal  ad- 
vantage. It  did  not  occur  to  his  inexperienced  mind  that, 
as  a  member  of  the  party,  he  would  be  responsible  to  his 
followers  not  only  for  his  future  but  the  past.  He  did  not 
shrink  from  abusing  the  confidence  of  the  holy  fathers, 
because  be  thought  himself  morally  justified  in  using  for 
his  own  advantage  men  who  merely  wished  to  make  him 
a  source  of  profit  to  themselves.  It  was  doubtless  re- 
pugnant to  him  to  feign  a  faith  he  did  not  possess,  but  he 
was  filled  with  admiration  for  various  different  individuals 
of  the  order,  always  felt  happy  with  them,  and  in  truth 
was  indifferent  to  what  religion  they  belonged,  for  he  had, 
as  previously  mentioned,  the  toleration  of  carelessness. 
To  him  all  confession  was  a  mere  phenomenon  of  his- 
torical culture.  The  pious  exercises  were  empty  pan- 
tomimes, on  whose  performance  nothing  depended  except 
the  approval  of  the  fathers,  and  they  were  all  the  easier 
because  he  had  grown  up  among  Catholic  ceremonies. 
The  political  and  social  influence  of  the  Jesuits  he  con- 
sidered too  feeble  for  him  to  fear  that  he  should  ever  be 
placed  in  a  situation  where  he  would  be  compelled  to  op- 
pose it.  But  he  was  to  learn  too  late  how  terribly  he  bad 
erred. 

Thus  his  novitiate  began,  and  what  he  had  once  un- 
dertaken he  carried  into  execution  most  persistently.  He 
appeared  to  be  a  most  obedient,  zealous  pupil,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  blinding  the  good  fathers  so  completely  that, 

3* 


30  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

to  serve  their  own  ends,  they  gave  him  instruction  in 
everything  that  could  win  him  esteem  at  courts, — the 
most  accurate  information  about  all  personal  and  diplo- 
matic relations,  the  royal  families,  reports  made  by  the 
emissaries  of  the  Jesuits  in  every  country,  a  quantity  of 
secrets  whose  judicious  use  must  procure  him  a  great 
influence,  and,  in  short,  impressed  their  whole  sophistical 
moral  teachings  upon  his  mind.  But  with  these  things, 
so  important  to  him,  he  learned  something  which  was  to 
destroy  the  anticipated  result  of  their  efforts, — to  under- 
value the  order  more  and  more.  The  more  equivocal  and 
selfish  these  motives  seemed  to  him,  the  more  he  thought 
himself  justified  in  deceiving  them  and  casting  aside  the 
claims  of  gratitude.  He  perceived  with  terror  what  an 
influence  the  Jesuits  exerted  over  everything;  how  re- 
lentlessly, with  a  thousand  weapons,  they  subdued  every- 
thing that  he  numbered  among  the  greatest  intellectual 
blessings  in  the  world.  The  farther  he  penetrated  into 
their  mysteries  the  greater  his  repugnance  became,  and 
the  more  distinctly  he  saw  the  wide  gulf  which  lay  be- 
tween him  and  Jesuitism. 

When  the  first  year  of  study  was  drawing  to  a  close, 
he  formed  the  resolution  to  seize  upon  the  first  good  pre- 
text to  release  himself  from  the  distasteful  bonds  into 
which,  with  youthful  carelessness,  he  had  entered.  He 
did  not  wish  to  burden  himself  with  any  further  obliga- 
tions, which  he  now  knew  he  should  never  discharge. 
But  he  was  too  familiar  with  the  power  to  which  he  had 
committed  himself,  not  to  be  aware  that  an  open  breach 
with  the  Jesuits  might  make  his  career  impossible,  per- 
haps destroy  his  whole  future.  Therefore  it  seemed  to 
him  unavoidable  to  keep  friends  with  them  for  the  present, 
and  under  his  father's  authority  he  had  already  learned 
to  submit  to  such  "necessities." 

Thus  he  must  find  a  pretext  which  would  apparently 
compel  him  to  sacrifice  the  second  year  of  study  and  leave 
the  Casa  al  Gesu  before  its  commencement.  The  moment 
was  favorable  to  him.  It  happened  that  the  government 

of  H took  certain  decisive  steps  against  the  Jesuits' 

intended  settlement  in  that  principality,  which  aroused 
the  greatest  excitement  among  the  whole  order.  Heinrich 


FROM  FALSEHOOD    TO   FALSEHOOD.  31 

took  advantage  of  this  opportunity.  With  remarkable 

address  he  induced  the  fathers  to  send  him  to  H in 

order  to  ascertain  the  actual  state  of  affairs,  and  in  their 
interests  begin  as  quickly  as  possible  the  career  for  which 
they  considered  him  sufficiently  mature.  The  expecta- 
tions which  the  priests  placed  upon  him  justified  this 
step ;  for  he  had  increased  and  strengthened  them  by  an 
act  which  usually  requires  the  greatest  readiness  for  self- 
sacrifice,  he  had  at  the  expiration  of  his  novitiate  pre- 
sented to  the  order  a  sum  of  ten  thousand  thalers.  The 
holy  fathers  did  not  suspect  that  it  was  the  payment  by 
which  he  wished  to  relieve  his  conscience  from  every 
burden  of  gratitude,  that  with  it  he  paid  for  his  residence 
and  instruction  as  he  would  have  defrayed  the  expenses 
of  his  studies  at  a  university,  because,  as  a  man  of  aristo- 
cratic disposition,  he  wished  to  be  in  debt  for  nothing! 
So  they  took  for  an  act  of  devotion  what  was  really  an 
effort  to  obtain  moral  freedom,  and  their  confidence  in  the 
man  who  had  made  such  a  sacrifice  for  them  became  as 
great  as  is  possible  for  the  cautious,  circumspect  Jesuits. 
80  they  allowed  him  to  set  out. 

"Become  a  diplomat  and  act  for  us;  practice  the  arts 
of  the  world  to  serve  the  cause  of  Heaven,"  they  said, 
when  they  bade  him  farewell.  And  he  thought,  with  a  sar- 
castic smile,  "  I  will  become  a  diplomat  not  to  serve 
Heaven,  but  myself."  On  returning  to  his  home,  his  rank 
and  striking  character  made  it  easy  for  him  to  begin  a 
diplomatic  career. 

The  government  of  H was  Protestant  and  liberal. 

He  therefore  carefully  concealed  the  fact  of  his  stay  in  the 
Jesuit  college,  and,  with  his  large  means,  succeeded  in  a 
few  years  in  raising  himself  to  a  lofty  position.  He  be- 
came councillor  of  the  legation,  a  friend  of  the  minister, 
a  favorite  at  court,  and  now  stood  upon  the  height  from 
which  he  could  begin  to  discharge  his  debt  to  the  order, 
and  the  admonition  was  not  delayed.  The  point  in  ques- 
tion, of  course,  related  to  procuring  admittance  into  the 
country  for,  and  also  extending  the  privileges  of,  the  ubi- 
quitous Jesuits. 

Ottmar  was  to  introduce  these  claims — and  did  not. 
The  moment  had  arrived  when  he  must  break  with  the 


32  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

order  openly  and  forever.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  he 
perceived  the  danger  resulting  from  the  step.  Ought  he 
to  become  the  representative  of  a  faith  which  he  denied, 
and  during  his  stay  in  Rome  had  fouud  utterly  irrecon- 
cilable with  his  opinions  ?  Was  it  to  become  the  shib- 
boleth, which  would  betray  the  earlier  associations  he  had 
so  carefully  concealed,  perhaps  forever  crush  his  aspira- 
tions to  obtain  a  portfolio  in  the  government  of  H ? 

At  this  price  the  year  of  study  in  the  college  had  been 
too  dearly  bought.  Should  he,  on  the  other  hand,  forfeit 
the  powerful  assistance  of  the  Jesuits,  and  make  unre- 
lenting enemies  where  he  had  formerly  possessed  trust- 
ing friends  ? 

The  outward  advantages  of  the  two  courses  to  be 
chosen  seemed  tolerably  equal ;  his  convictions  of  right 
must  turn  the  scale,  and  did  so.  In  vain  were  the  more 
and  more  vehement  warnings  that  followed.  He  wished 
to  make  the  unfettered  tendency  of  his  intellect  the  guide 
of  his  life,  and  deserted  the  teachings  and  struggles  of 
the  order;  for  there  still  remained  in  him  a  remnant  of 
that  feeling  of  duty  which  commands  men  to  oppose  what 
they  consider  false  and  pernicious. 

But  vengeance  was  not  delayed. 

Heinrich  soon  felt  that  his  position  in  the  government 
and  at  court  was  no  longer  the  same.  While  hitherto, 
from  the  prince  down  to  his  humblest  subject,  the  greatest 
respect,  even  admiration,  had  been  paid  him,  he  now  sud- 
denly found  himself  eyed  distrustfully,  and  even  avoided, 
without  being  able  to  discover  a  reason.  Formerly  no 
important  measure  had  been  taken  upon  which  the  min- 
ister had  not  privately  requested  his  counsel,  now  the 
latter  enveloped  himself  in  a  cloak  of  cold  reserve.  Thus 
dnys  and  weeks  elapsed,  leaving  him  in  a  most  distaste- 
ful position. 

But  one  person  at  the  court  remained  the  same  towards 
him :  his  patroness,  the  niece  of  the  widowed  prince, 
Princess  Ottilie,  an  ethereal  vision,  who  combined  the 
haughty  grace  of  a  born  aristocrat  with  the  charms  of  a 
feeling  soul.  In  her  he  possessed  a  true  friend,  whom  he 
honored  as  a  higher  being;  nay,  he  was  often  inclined  to 
believe  he  loved  her,  although  not  even  the  faintest  wish 


A    GUARDIAN  ANGEL.  33 

to  possess  her  bad  ever  arisen  in  his  mind.  All  real  merit 
was  attracted  to  the  princess,  and  she  won  every  one  by 
her  poetic  mind  and  clear  intellect,  as  well  as  the  charms 
of  her  maidenly  character,  although  she  had  already 
passed  her  first  youth.  She  had  distinguished  Ottmar 
beyond  all  others  at  the  court,  but  for  some  time  she  had 
been  unable  to  receive  him.  It  was  reported  that  Ottilie 
was  ill,  and  in  his  very  uncomfortable  situation  he  was 
totally  bereft  of  counsel  and  consolation. 


IV. 

A   GUARDIAN   ANGEL. 

AT  last  a  court  ball  was  given,  and  Henri, — for  it  was 
Henri  who  went  to  balls, — who  was  always  the  star  that 
dazzled  all  eyes,  found  himself  as  much  neglected  as  ever. 
Only  the  members  of  the  court  who  were  suspected  of 
ultramontanisni  approached  him  with  mysterious  cordi- 
ality; and  whenever  a  number  of  observers  were  present, 
some  persons  whom  he  knew  to  belong  to  the  ranks  of 
his  worst  enemies  cast  strange  glances  at  him  which 
could  scarcely  fail  to  be  noticed.  Infuriated  by  this  irri- 
tating and  to  him  incomprehensible  conduct,  he  turned  to 
the  young  girls  to  pass  away  a  few  moments  in  their 
society  ;  but  the  first  whom  he  approached,  a  distant  rela- 
tive, drew  back  with  mingled  sorrow  and  alarm.  He 
laughingly  seized  the  little  finger  of  her  outstretched 
hand  and  drew  her  into  a  window  corner.  "  Why  do 
you  avoid  me,  little  Elsie  ?  .  What  have  I  done  to  harm 
you  ?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  go  away,  you  are  a  Jesuit!"  whispered  the  girl, 
half  timidly,  half  sullenly. 

"Ah!"  A  flush  slowly  mounted  into  Henri's  face,  but 
without  the  slightest  change  of  countenance  he  pushed 
a  gold  bracelet  which  had  slipped  down  to  the  young 


34  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

girl's  wrist  so  far  up  the  rounded  limb  that  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  she  shrank  from  the  sight  of  her  bare  arm. 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  Jesuit  is  something  so  very  bad  ?" 

"  No,"  was  the  embarrassed  reply.  "  I  only  know  it 
is — must  be — something  you  ought  not  to  be;  or  else  voll 
would  not  do  it  so  secretly."  The  young  girl  paused. 

"  Well,  and  who  told  you  this  ?"  asked  Henri,  in  the 
greatest  suspense,  gazing  so  steadily  and  firmly  into  the 
large  childlike  eyes,  that  she  continued  in  the  greatest 
bewilderment. 

"  Why,  Herr  von  Neuenburg  told  ray  mother  so,  and 
she  was  very  unhappy  about  it,  and  they  both  said  you 
could  not  be  trusted  any  more.  Now  you  know,  let  me  go. 
Oh,  dear,  I  ought  not  to  have  said  anything  about  it !" 

With  these  words  she  ran  away,  and  his  smiles  fled 
with  her.  It  was  no  longer  the  careless,  jesting  Henri, 
but  Heinrich  who  stood  haughtily  erect  in  the  alcove 
surveying  the  assembly  with  cold,  contemptuous  glances. 

"These  people  wish  to  be  diplomats,  and  discuss  such 
important  matters  before  children  !  Fortunately,  I  know 
you  well  enough  to  perceive  that  this  rumor  proceeds 
from  you  Jesuits.  Ob,  to  be  chained  to  such  a  life  !  to 
be  forced  to  sacrifice  all  one's  power  for  an  honor  the 
miserable  breath  of  a  liar's  lips  can  blow  away  like  dust ! 
Is  this  life  worth  the  trouble  ?" 

"  Not  this  life,"  murmured  the  fiend  who  was  to  help 
him  "  obtain."  "  You  must  enter  a  wider  field,  and  mount 
higher  and  higher  to  a  sphere  where  these  petty  intrigues 
can  have  no  power  over  you ;  then  only  will  you  find 
rest." 

These  reflections,  which  were  not  by  any  means  the 
first  of  the  kind,  were  disturbed  by  the  rustle  of  a  dress, 
and  when  he  looked  up  Princess  Ottilie  was  standing  be- 
fore him.  She  gazed  at  him  for  a  long  time  in  silence, 
while  he  bowed  low,  murmuring  a  few  words  of  apology 
for  his  absence  of  mind. 

"  Not  so,  Herr  von  Ottmar,"  she  interrupted  ;  "  we 
already  know  that  even  when  surrounded  by  the  bustle 
of  a  crowd,  you  sometimes  hold  intercourse  with  your 
own  thoughts;  in  any  case,  a  much  greater  source  of  en- 
tertainment than  society  could  offer  you." 


A    GUARDIAN  ANGEL.  35 

"  Ah,  your  Highness,  if  society  consisted  of  the  ele- 
ments united  in  my  gracious  princess,  it  would  be  the 
highest  enjoyment  to  devote  to  it  every  power  ;  but  when 
people  are  compelled,  like  me,  to  wander  perpetually,  held 
aloof  and  misunderstood,  through  this  labyrinth  of  pre- 
tensions, disappointments,  and  prejudices,  they  are  some- 
times glad  to  take  refuge  in  the  unsubstantial  world  of 
thought." 

"  But  why  do  you  not  release  yourself  from  surround- 
ings so  distasteful  ?"  asked  the  princess.  "  Why  do  you 
not  find  strength  to  withdraw,  if  not  to  the  world  of 
spirits,  at  least  to  that  of  the  intellect?" 

"  Your  Highness,"  replied  Ottmar,  after  a  slight  pause, 
"  if  I  could  take  with  me  to  that  realm  what  has  hitherto 
chained  me  to  the  court,  how  gladly  would  I  resign  this 
whirl  of  society  !  But  so  long  as  the  object  of  my  holiest 
longing  is  still  clasped  in  the  arms  of  the  world,  so  long 
I  will  at  least  maintain  a  place  near  her,  and  fill  it  as  well 
as  I  am  able." 

With  these  words  he  cast  upon  the  princess  one  of  the 
glances  whose  power  he  had  so  often  tried.  She  invol- 
untarily turned  her  head  to  see  if  any  one  could  hear  her. 

"Herr  von  Ottmar,"  said  she,  and  her  voice  became 
lower,  her  expression  more  sympathetic,  "  may  I  speak 
to  you  frankly  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  most  gracious,  benevolent  friend  !"  murmured 
Heinricli,  in  a  tone  whose  submissive  devotion  produced 
an  irresistiblejnfluence  upon  the  impressionable  soul  of 
the  princess. 

"  Do  not  imagine  that  I  have  not  perceived  your  design 
of  winning  me  by  flattery ;  I  have  read  that,  as  well  as 
your  whole  character.  I  am  gracious  enough  to  forgive 
you  for  placing  the  same  estimate  upon  me  as  upon  every 
other  woman  whom  you  may  have  misled  by  similar 
speeches.  I  forgive  you,  because  I  believe  you  to  be 
greater  than  such  arts  would  make  you  appear ;  you 
possess  no  false  nature,  and  if  you  deceive  it  is  only  in 
cases  which  have  no  connection  with  your  secret  life,  and 
no  reality  for  you.  Where  you  have  to  answer  for  your- 
self, your  own  established  convictions,  you  will  be  true.  I 
have  this  confidence  in  you,  and  therefore  can  calmly  look 


36  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

on  and  see  you  make  sport  of  the  men  and  circumstances 
which,  from  your  lofty  staud-point,  must  appear  so  small ; 
nay,  I  can  even  see  you  test  your  superiority  over  my- 
self; and  while  I  know  all  you  say  is  false,  am  unable,  I 
frankly  confess,  to  resist  the  charm  which  your  masterly 
acting  exerts  over  me,  and  feel  attracted  towards  you  us 
the  ignorant  man  is  drawn  to  the  artist  whose  skill  he 
admires.  Do  not  deny  the  truth  of  my  assertion.  Be 
noble ;  or,  better  still,  show  yourself  to  me  as  you  really 
are,  and  confess  I  am  right." 

"  Princess,"  cried  Ottmar,  "  you  are  right.  I  grant 
that  you  have  understood  me ;  but  I  must  oppose  you 
in  one  thing,  that  I  have  been  hypocritical  to  you.  Ten 
minutes  ago  you  might  perhaps  have  termed  me  a  flatterer, 
but  now  everything  I  said  has  become  simple  truth,  and 
I  should  have  far  more  to  say  to  you  if  time  and  oppor- 
tunity favored  me." 

"  I  fear  this  is  the  last  opportunity  I  shall  have  of 
speaking  to  you  undisturbed,  and  therefore  I  speak  now. 
I  know  you  will  not  remain  here  under  existing  circum- 
stances, and  was  not  willing  to  have  you  go  without  tak- 
ing with  you  on  your  weary  way  a  word  of  conciliation, 
perhaps  of  warning;  for  you  do  not  deserve  the  sentence 
passed  upon  you,  and  it  grieves  me  deeply  to  see  a  noble, 
great-hearted  man  so  misunderstood  through  his  own 
fault." 

"  Has  it  already  gone  so  far  ?"  asked  Ottmar,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  Unfortunately,  yes,  my  friend.  You  are  considered 
a  very  dangerous  man.  Your  enemies  have  decried  you 
as  a  secret  agent  of  the  Jesuits,  and  at  last  placed  before 
the  prince  proofs  that  you  spent  a  year  as  a  student  in 
the  Jesuit  college  at  Rome.  Your  whole  secret  is  be- 
trayed." 

"And  do  they  not  suppose,"  replied  Ottmar,  "  that  the 
Jesuits  would  know  how  to  guard  such  a  secret  better, 
unless  it  suited  their  interests  to  reveal  it?" 

"  You  must  consider  that  you  are  at  a  Protestant  court. 
You  have  hitherto  passed  for  a  free-thiuker,  now  you  are 
discovered  to  be  a  pupil  of  the  Jesuits.  Thus  one  or  the 
other  must  be  false;  people  find  themselves  mistaken  in 


A    GUARDIAN  ANGEL.  3T 

you,  and  are  so  blindly  enraged  that  they  will  believe 
your  enemies  rather  than  you.^  They  consider  everything 
you  have  done  and  are  doing  against  the  Jesuits  to  be 
merely  a  mask.  The  cordiality  which  several  gentlemen, 
who  are  known  to  be  adherents  of  the  order,  showed  you 
this  evening  confirmed  the  prince  still  more  in  his  opinion. 
You  know  his  passionate  temper  ;  I  have  just  heard  a 
conversation  between  him  and  the  minister  which  I  have 
neither  time  nor  inclination  to  repeat;  but  my  conscience 
urged  me  to  warn  you,  and " 

"And  your  heart,  princess;  it  tells  you  that,  spite  of 
the  equivocal  part  you  see  me  play,  I  am  a  man  of  honor, 
who  at  any  moment  can  cast  aside  hypocrisy  and  deceit 
as  contemptible  tools,  and  whom  you  can  trust." 

"  I  know  not  whether  I  may  venture  to  do  so.  You 
were  sincere  with  none,  and  I  can  only  entreat  you  always 
to  remember  that  falsehood  is  as  dangerous  as  a  poison- 
ous dye,  by  means  of  which  men  often  color  things  of 
trifling  value,  but  which  by  constant  use  so  pervades  the 
atmosphere  that  they  at  last  can  no  longer  breathe  in  it 
themselves." 

"  Your  Highness,"  whispered  Heinrich,  "  let  me  at 
least  know  why,  in  spite  of  my  faults,  you  can  still  feel 
so  much  sympathy  for  me." 

"  Because  I  have  recognized  your  great  talents,  the 
conflict,  the  want  of  peace,  in  your  soul ;  because  I  know 
that  the  contradictions  which  make  you  suspected  by  the 
world  at  large  are  rooted  in  the  contrasts  of  your  own 
nature ;  and  because  I  cannot  help  feeling  the  deepest 
compassion  for  you,"  she  said,  at  last,  with  an  outburst  of 
feeling,  laying  her  hand  carelessly  upon  his.  Her  voice 
rang  upon  Heinrich.^  ear  in  tones  of  strange  warning, 
and  tears  were  glittering  in  her  deep  blue  eyes  as  she 
continued :  "  Oh,  there  is  something  so  noble,  so  godlike, 
in  a  true  human  soul,  that  when  I  see  one  struggling  and 
battling  in  the  prison  of  this  earthly  body,  ensnared  and 
tortured,  my  heart  bleeds  and  I  would  fain  extend  my 
hands  protectingly  over  the  wildly  fluttering  wings,  until 
the  hour  when  it  can  free  itself  and  soar  away  unfettered! 
We  are  observed.  God  be  with  you  !  Farewell  1"  She 
glided  away  and  disappeared  among  the  crowd. 

4 


38  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  My  Ideal  spoke  from  her  lips,"  said  Ottmar,  gazing 
after  her. 

A  strange  conflict  now  ensued  between  the  opposing 
elements  in  his  breast. 

"  She  loves  me ;  she,  this  noble  creature,  so  full  of 
intellect  and  feeling,"  said  Heinrich.  "  She  could  not 
speak  more  distinctly,  and  what  she  concealed  I  read  in 
her  eyes,  which  absorbed  my  image  in  their  blue  depths 
and  reflected  it  again,  as  the  sun  paints  a  Fata  Morgana 
upon  the  clouds." 

"And  I,"  Henri  rejoined,  "I  feel  ashamed  and  raiser- 
able  when  in  her  presence,  for  I  can  give  her  nothing  in 
return  for  the  treasures  she  brings  me.  I  do  not  love 
her." 

"  And  why  not  ?"  asked  Heinrich.  "  Can  she  not  make 
a  man  happy  for  his  whole  life  ?  Does  she  not  hold  a 
lofty  position,  is  she  not  as  noble  as  she  is  intellectual, 
and  has  she  not  sufficient  strength  of  mind  to  accept  my 
hand,  if  I  offer  it,  in  spite  of  all  intrigues?" 

"  True,"  replied  Henri;  "  but  she  is  neither  young  nor 
blooming,  and  is  an  invalid.  How  can  I  bind  myself  for- 
ever to  one  who  has  not  the  slightest  personal  charm  for 
me?  A  beautiful  soul  and  noble  mind  are  phantoms, 
but  a  sickly  body  is  the  most  comfortless  reality,  and  a 
burden  which  I  must  drag  about  with  me  during  my 
whole  life.  No :  so  long  as  I  am  still  young  I  wish  to 
enjoy  this  miserable  life  ;  when  I  am  old  and  decrepit  I 
shall  have  enough  to  do  to  bear  my  own  ailments  without 
the  addition  of  an  invalid  wife." 

"Ah,  I  could  love  her  !"  said  Heinrich.  "You  should 
not  extend  your  arms  to  me  in  vain,  beautiful  soul ;  I 
would  foster  and  cherish  you  as  my  most  sacred  posses- 
sion ;  but  it  is  impossible.  Even  if  I  should  give  her  this 
man,  what  would  she  possess  ?  A  cold  intellect  and  a 
sensuality  which  this  poor  ethereal  nature  would  be  un- 
able to  attract,  and  by  which  she  would  sooner  or  later 
be  betrayed."  Absorbed  in  these  thoughts,  he  walked 
through  the  rooms  to  take  his  leave.  He  wished  to  go 
home,  for  he  had  lost  all  inclination  for  the  entertainment. 
When  he  reached  the  last  apartment  a  new  dance  had 
just  commenced  and  drawn  every  one  into  the  large 


A    GUARDIAN  ANGEL.  39 

salons.  The  room  was  silent  and  empty,  only  the 
lights  in  the  candelabra  burned  with  a  low  crackle;  fans 
and  withered  bouquets  lay  scattered  over  the  tables,  and 
cloaks  that  had  been  carelessly  cast  aside  were  thrown 
upon  the  sofas.  Everything  bore  witness  to  the  bright 
and  joyous  life  that  had  reigned  here  a  few  minutes 
before,  and  now  the  deserted  chamber  with  its  marble 
columns  and  gilded  arches  seemed  like  a  mausoleum, 
where  the  soul  might  take  a  last  farewell.  He  paused  an 
instant.  "  Ottilie  1"  he  murmured,  half  unconsciously, 
and  the  solemn  mood  he  had  felt  a  short  time  before 
again  overmastered  him.  It  seemed  as  if  beneficent 
spirits  were  floating  in  the  waves  of  light  that  surrounded 
him  and  trying  to  whisper  something,  but  be  could  no 
longer  understand  them.  Just  then  he  suddenly  heard 
a  low  rustle  :  some  living  creature  was  near.  He  looked 
around  him  and  saw  the  princess  standing  in  the  door- 
way gazing  at  him  with  deep  earnestness. 

"Ottilie,"  cried  Heinrich,  "God  has  sent  you  here  I 
The  angel  of  my  life  called  me,  but  I  could  no  longer  un- 
derstand his  words;  for  in  the  tumult  of  the  world  I 
have  grown  deaf  to  his  spirit  voice.  He  dwells  in  you ; 
become  his  oracle,  let  him  speak  to  me  through  your  lips." 

"  Herr  von  Ottmar,  my  heart  is  filled  with  the  thought 
of  your  welfare,  but  how  to  help  you  I  know  not.  I  will 
pray  your  good  angel  to  show  me  some  means  of  fathom- 
ing the  trouble  in  your  soul.  I  know  of  no  way  unless" — 
she  hesitated,  less  from  embarrassment  than  to  seek  the 
right  word, — "  unless  you  can  find  a  nature  which  will 
understand  and  have  for  you  the  patience  of  true  love. 
Only  the  anxiety  of  a  heart  entirely  devoted  to  you  will 
discover  the  means  of  restoring  your  lost  peace.  That 
you  may  win  such  a  being  is  the  hope  and  desire  of  my 
soul." 

"  Princess^"  cried  Heinrich,  whom  Ottilie's  lovely  en- 
thusiasm had  deeply  charmed,  "if  I  now  say  that  I  find 
such  a  being  in  you,  that  there  is  no  woman  to  whom  I 
will  intrust  my  life  except  you " 

"No,  my  friend,"  said  Ottilie  calmly,  though  she 
turned  pale.  "  You  are  deceived  in  yourself  at  this 
moment.  You  do  not  love  me:  it  is  the  longing  for  the 


40  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

right  which,  thank  God,  always  lives  in  you,  which  at- 
tracts you  to  my — I  may  be  allowed  to  say  it — pure 
soul.  This  is  not  love  ;  I  know  it,  and  would  never 
strengthen  you  in  an  error  which  would  defraud  you  of 
the  best  portion  of  your  life.  Yet  I  thank  you  for  your 
.confession.  It  makes  you  appear  still  more  lovable  in  my 
eyes;  not  because  you  have  made  it  to  me,  but  to  the  ideal 
to  which  I  would  so  gladly  see  you  rise." 

"  Ottilie,  let  me  thank  you  on  my  knees  for  the  light 
you  have  poured  into  my  darkened  soul,  and  let  me 
swear  I  will  do  everything  good  and  great  of  which  I 
may  be  capable  in  your  name,  your  spirit !"  Heinrich 
impulsively  threw  himself  at  her  feet  and  clasped  her 
hands.  "  Oh,  my  soul  loves  you,  Ottilie,  with  a  love 
which " 

"  Which  is  not  of  this  world,"  interrupted  Ottilie,  bend- 
ing over  him.  "  Another  love  will  enter  your  heart,  and 
you  will  bless  me  for  having  had  strength  to  refuse  what 
does  not  belong  to  me  !  And  now  I  entreat  you  to  rise 
and  leave  me  to  myself." 

Heinrich  rose  and  started  back  as  he  looked  at  Ottilie. 
She  was  standing  proudly  erect,  struggling  for  breath,  as 
her  tears  flowed  more  and  more  violently ;  her  eyes  were 
closed,  her  delicate  lips  firmly  compressed,  she  was  a 
most  touching  picture  of  agonizing  self-sacrifice. 

"  Poor  heart!  you  love  me,  and  yet  are  noble  enough  to 
reject  me  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"Yes,  my  friend,"  murmured  Ottilie,  "so  truly  as  God 
will  sustain  me  in  my  last  hour,  so  truly  I  desire  your 
happiness  more  than  my  own,  so  truly  I  resign  you. 
You  must  be  free,  and  choose  freely.  God  grant  you 
may  find  the  right!" 

"  After  this  vow  I  have  nothing  more  to  hope,"  said 
Heinrich.  "  Farewell,  my  friend  !  One  who  has  power 
to  exercise  such  self-restraint  has  also  strength  to  con- 
quer her  sorrow."  He  kissed  her  cold,  pale  brow,  and 
hastily  left  the  room. 

"Thank  God  it  has  turned  out  so  !"  whispered  Henri; 
and  Heinrich  also  uttered  a  sigh  of  relief:  he  felt  that  he 
had  escaped  a  great  danger.  He  had  been  hurried  on' by 
a  momentary  impulse  and  Ottilie's  unconcealed  love  to  a 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  41 

step  which  he  would  have  bitterly  repented ;  for  he  was 
equally  convinced  that  no  one  would  ever  understand 
him  like  Ottilie,*  and  also  that  her  appreciation  alone 
would  not  satisfy  him.  As  Henri  desired  more  sensual, 
Heinrich  demanded  greater  intellectual,  charms.  He 
wished  to  be  excited,  kept  in  a  state  of  suspense,  enlivened, 
amused.  Ottilie's  uniform,  quiet  earnestness  would  not 
have  afforded  him  this,  and  he  thanked  her  for  having 
rightly  understood  his  hasty  enthusiasm  and  been  gener- 
ous enough  to  reject  him. 

Meantime,  the  queenly  Ottilie  stood  motionless  in  the 
glittering  apartment,  her  hand  pressed  to  her  heart  and 
her  eyes  raised  towards  heaven.  "  Which  of  us  is  most 
to  be  pitied,  he  or  I  ?" 


Y. 

MASTER   AND   PUPIL. 

ON  his  way  home,  Ottmar  remembered  that  he  had 
appointed  this  very  hour  for  a  tender  meeting,  and 
gradually  the  solemn  impression  made  by  the  last  few 
moments  faded  before  the  charming  picture  which  now 
obtained  the  mastery  over  his  soul.  When  he  returned 
home  his  old  valet,  who  had  served  him  from  childhood, 
met  him  with  a  pale,  sleepy  face,  and  slowly  lighted  the 
candles. 

"  Has  not  the  little  girl  come  yet  ?"  asked  Henri. 

"  Who  ?" 

"Who  should  it  be  ?     Roschen,"  he  added. 

"  Roschen,  Marten  the  beadle's  daughter,  do  you  ex- 
pect her  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  do;  I  persuaded  her  to  meet  me  in  the 
garden.  Keep  watch  at  the  window,  and  when  she 
comes  take  her  into  the  pavilion,"  he  said,  absently, 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair. 

"  Permit  me  to  warn  you,  Herr  Baron,"  said  the  old 
4* 


42  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

man  with  sorrowful  earnestness.  "  Roschen  is  an  inno- 
cent maiden,  the  only  daughter  of  an  honest,  poor  man, 
whose  sole  joy  is  in  this  child.  Have  you  considered 
this?" 

"  Don't  bore  me  with  your  reproaches,  man  !"  cried 
Henri.  "  Don't  grudge  me  this  little  pleasure  ;  life  with 
these  frivolous,  coquettish  women  is  already  gradually 
becoming  so  shallow  that  it  is  no  longer  endurable.  I 
must  have  something  pure  and  simple,  which  can  refresh 
my  mind  and  interrupt  the  everlasting  sameness ;  and 
she  is  really  a  charming  creature!"  he  murmured,  ad- 
miringly. 

"  Herr  Baron,"  said  the  old  man,  with  deep  emotion, 
"I  promised  your  dying  mother  to  watch  over  you  as 
far  and  as  long  as  it  was  in  my  power.  In  former  days 
my  influence  often  prevailed ;  but  since  your  severe  ill- 
ness and  residence  in  France  you  have  become  a  different 
person;  still,  I  did  all  that  was  possible  in  my  limited 
sphere  to  keep  you  from  evil  of  every  kind.  Of  late  I 
have  feared  more  for  the  safety  of  your  soul  than  your 
bodily  welfare.  I  have  bad  occasion  to  perform  services 
of  which  I  have  been  ashamed.  To  carry  letters  and 
attend  light-minded  ladies  home  is  not  the  business  of 
a  respectable  man ;  yet  I  did  it  out  of  affection  for  you, 
and  because  no  innocent  person  suffered.  You  gave  me 
no  thanks  for  my  obedience,  but  took  it  as  a  proof  that 
I  shared  your  views,  and  probably  secretly  despised  me 
for  it.  I  bore  all  patiently  and  did  my  duty.  But  to- 
day, Herr  Baron,  it  is  time  to  hold  you  back  from  the 
path  on  which  you  have  entered.  To  ruin  an  innocent 
girl  is  a  crime  of  which  I  would  not  have  believed  you 
capable,  and  to  which  I  will  lend  no  aid." 

"Old  fool !"  muttered  Henri,  looking  at  the  clock,  "if 
you  were  not  so  useful  I  would  have  dismissed  you  to 
some  quiet  place  long  ago.  Don't  pretend  to  be  more 
silly  than  you  are,  Anton.  I've  already  heard  so  much 
morality  to-day  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  doing  a  very 
foolish  thing.  Do  you  suppose  I  shall  begin  again  with 
my  valet?  Go,  and  let  me  alone!" 

"Herr  Baron,"  replied  Anton,  firmly,  "I  am  sorry  to 
be  obliged  to  tell  you  that  I  must  leave  your  service  if 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  43 

you  insist  upon  seeing  the  girl,  and  beg  you  to  discharge 
me  to-night." 

"Anton,"  cried  Henri,  in  a  furious  passion,  "I  have 
borne  with  you  for  a  long  time  !  You  were  faithful  to 
me,  even  resisted  the  temptations  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
always  attended  to  my  welfare.  All  this  I  have  recog- 
nized and  rewarded ;  but  I  can  no  longer  keep  a  servant 
who  wishes  to  set  himself  up  as  a  judge  of  my  conduct, 
were  he  ever  so  indispensable  to  me ;  so  remember  your 
place  better,  or  go  !" 

At  that  moment  the  door-bell  rang  gently.  "Ah,  she 
is  coming!"  exclaimed  Henri,  exultantly  ;  and  forgetting 
everything  else,  he  turned  to  Anton,  calling,  "  Lights !" 

The  old  servant  did  not  move,  but  stood  with  clasped 
hands  praying,  under  his  breath,  "  Dear  God,  save  this 
young  soul !" 

Henri  rushed  down  the  staircase  on  which  the  moon- 
light lay  in  broad  bars ;  his  hands  trembled  with  joyful 
impatience.  "Wait,  my  Roschen  !  my  little  pink  rose! 
I  will  admit  you,  my  darling!"  he  whispered,  as  he 
turned  the  key  and  threw  open  the  heavy  door,  half 
bending  forward  to  embrace  his  angel ;  but  a  tall  figure, 
on  which  the  moon  cast  a  ghostly  light,  entered  and 
fixed  a  pair  of  dark,  searching  eyes  upon  the  astonished 
Henri. 

"  Oh,  Christ!  what  is  this?"  he  exclaimed,  staggering 
back  as  if  overwhelmed  with  terror  and  disappointed 
expectation  against  the  door,  which  he  closed  again. 

"It  is  not  Christ,  but  one  who  comes  in  his  name," 
replied  the  stranger's  deep  voice  in  the  purest  Italian. 

"By  all  good  angels,  Father  Severinus!"  murmured 
Henri,  recoiling  a  step.  A  low  knock  sounded  from 
without;  the  young  man's  blood  mounted  to  his  brow, 
and  he  hesitated  a  moment  in  the  greatest  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  Here  are  my  companions,"  said  the  Italian.  "Allow 
me  to  open  the  door."  He  threw  it  back,  and  two 
figures,  clad  in  the  same  dress  as  his  own,  entered,  ac- 
companied by  one  of  the  Jesuits  who  had  spoken  to 
Henri  that  night  at  the  ball.  They  greeted  him  respect- 
fully, and  he  was  man  of  the  world  enough  to  instantly 


44  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

accommodate  himself  to  his  painful  situation  as  well  as 
the  torturing  disappointment  of  the  moment. 

"You  are  welcome,  reverend  sirs,"  he  said,  smiling, 
and  led  the  way  up-stairs. 

Old  Anton  stood  upon  the  landing  with  a  light,  and 
one  of  the  priests  saluted  him  with  his  "  Praised  be 
Jesus  Christ." 

"  Forever,  amen !"  replied  the  old  man,  with  a  deep 
sigh,  as  he  placed  chairs  for  the  strangers  and  left  the 
room,  casting  a  sorrowful  glance  at  his  master. 

"We  have  been  looking  for  you  at  the  ball,  my  son," 
Father  Severinus  began  ;  "  because  I  only  arrived  from 
Rome  this  evening,  and  must  set  out  again  early  to- 
morrow morning.  I  am  taking  a  journey  through  Ger- 
many, and  thought  it  my  duty  to  see  you,  my  favorite 
pupil,  and  look  after  the  welfare  of  your  soul.  But,  un- 
fortunately, I  was  compelled  to  learn  that  the  soil  which 
so  readily  received  our  lessons  was  a  mere  sand-heap, 
whose  best  harvest  is  blown  away  by  the  wind." 

Heinrich,  who  had  taken  Henri's  place,  quietly  lis- 
tened to  the  priest's  words  with  his  usual  satirical  smile. 
"  Reverend  sir,  I  must  first  observe  that  I  am  no  longer 
in  the  mood  to  allow  myself  to  be  treated  like  a  school- 
boy. There  are  times  when  a  peculiar  fatality  seems 
to  pursue  us ;  to-day  appears  to  have  been  set  apart 
for  giving  me  moral  lectures,  and  I  assure  you  the 
more  of  them  I  hear  the  less  successful  they  are;  so 
you  perceive  you  will  not  be  able  to  accomplish  much 
in  this  way,  especially  with  a  man  who  has  returned 
at  one  o'elocjc  in  the  morning,  weary  and  heated,  from 
a  ball." 

"  Perhaps  Princess  Ottilie  also  belongs  to  the  number 
of  those  whose  'moral  lectures'  have  been  so  unsuc- 
cessful," sneeringly  remarked  Ottmar's  ball-room  com- 
panion, Gebeimrath  Schwelling. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that  ?"  exclaimed  Heinrich. 

"Enough,  I  should  think;  the  noble  lady  did  not 
speak  so  low  that  any  one  in  the  adjoining  window  corner 
could  not  hear  everything,  and  it  is  really  a  duty  to  in- 
form her  how  useless  her  admonitions  are,  that  she  may 
not  trouble  herself  vainly  in  future." 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  45 

Heinrich  cast  a  glance  of  inexpressible  contempt  at  the 
sleek,  fat  face  and  restless  eyes  of  the  speaker.  "  Princess 
Ottilie  is  the  noblest  woman  I  know,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  deep  emotion,  "  and  is  too  lofty  to  lend  her  ear 
to  such  vulgar  insinuations.  If,  however,  you  succeed 
in  betraying  me  to  her,  remember  that  you  will  do  me 
no  harm,  but  only  inflict  useless  pain  upon  a  iioble 
heart." 

"  Or  heal  it,"  replied  the  Geheimrath,  contemptuously. 

"  Cease  this  aimless  conversation,  gentlemen,"  said 
Severinus.  "  I  am  astonished,  Herr  Geheimrath,  to  hear 
what  language  you  employ  towards  a  man  whose  great 
talents,  even  as  an  enemy,  should  command  your  respect. 
Surely  these  are  not  the  means  worthy  of  so  great  an 
end ;  and  if  our  affairs  in  Germany  are  managed  thus, 
I  can  understand  why  the  word  '  Jesuit '  is  here  used 
as  a  bugbear  to  frighten  children.  In  majorem  Dei  glo- 
riam,  never  forget  that.  Unfortunately,  I  see  you  men 
of  the  world  must  be  reminded  of  it  more  frequently 
than  our  dead  General  has  done.  It  was  time  a  more 
powerful  hand  should  seize  the  reins;  I  perceive  that 
more  and  more  at  every  step  I  take  upon  this  soil." 

He  had  risen  from  his  seat  as  he  uttered  these  words, 
and  there  was  something  so  menacing  and  imperious  in 
his  bearing  that  the  Geheimrath  exclaimed,  with  mingled 
fear  and  anger,  "  By  what  authority  do  you  use  this 
language  towards  me,  Father  Severinus  ?" 

"By  the  authority  the  General,  who  sends  me,  gave 
me  over  every  worldly  coadjutor  who  enjoys  the  advan- 
tages of  our  alliance  without  showing  himself  worthy 
of  them." 

The  word  General  and  Severinus's  majestic  bearing 
utterly  crushed  the  Geheimrath,  who  sank  into  a  chair 
in  silence,  passing  his  hand  over  a  brow  bedewed  with 
cold  perspiration. 

"  Take  me  to  a  room  where  I  can  speak  to  you  in  pri- 
vate, my  son,"  said  the  priest  in  a  very  different  tone, 
turning  to  Ottmar.  "We  alone  have  understood  each 
other,  and  we  shall  come  to  an  understanding  again." 

"As  you  please,"  said  Heinrich,  hesitatingly,  and  was 
about  to  take  one  of  the  candlesticks  from  the  table. 


46  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"Nay,"  observed  Severinus,  checking  him.  "You 
know  my  habits;  do  not  refuse  me  the  favor  of  being 
allowed  to  speak  to  you  in  darkness  as  in  former  days. 
The  soul  can  collect  its  powers  better  when  external 
objects  are  concealed." 

"As  you  please,"  Ottmar  repeated,  while  a  faint  smile 
played  around  his  lips. 

He  led  the  priest  into  the  adjoining  library;  then  left 
the  room  a  moment  and  said  to  Anton,  in  low  tone, 
"Examine  my  study,  remove  the  papers  lying  around, 
and  bolt  the  door  leading  into  the  dining-room.  If 
Roschen  comes,  I  also  rely  upon  your  faithfulness  to 
take  her  into  the  garden  and  shut  her  up  in  the  pavilion." 

Then  he  quietly  returned  to  his  guest.  The  library 
was  dimly  lighted  by  the  moonbeams.  The  books 
towered  aloft  in  immense  cases,  and  from  the  most  ex- 
haustive works  of  the  intellect,  bound  in  these  lifeless 
cases  to  arise  again  in  spirit,  the  eye  wandered  to  the 
most  perfect  works  of  nature  imperishably  imprisoned  in 
stone  and  colors  to  refresh  the  weary  thinker,  and  gently 
win  him  back  from  his  dizzy  heights  to  this  world  and 
all  its  lovely  forms.  Statues  and  pictures  of  every  kind 
stood  and  hung  around. 

If  a  moonbeam  shone  upon  the  gilt  letters  of  the 
names  of  the  greatest  poets  and  learned  men,  it  also 
revealed  the  mute  embrace  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  and 
brought  out  in  strong  relief  the  marble  shoulder  of  the 
Venus  de  Medici.  In  a  niche  filled  with  palms  and 
climbing  plants,  it  cast  flickering  shadows  upon  Schwan- 
thaler's  nymph,  which  seemed  to  be  lamenting  that  she 
was  stone,  and  glittered  upon  a  marble  basin  at  her  feet. 
Then  its  pale  gleam  struggled  with  the  vivid  hues  of  the 
exquisite  copy  of  a  Titian,  or  glided  over  a  table  filled 
with  charts,  sketches,  and  plans,  whose  half-rolled  sheets 
fluttered  gently.  The  room  revealed  a  strange,  mys- 
terious life  and  nature.  Ghosts  seemed  to  be  gliding  to 
and  fro, — the  tall,  chastely-veiled  ghosts  of  philosophy 
and  poetry, — the  nude,  caressing  genii  of  love  and  pleas- 
ure. Now  all  appeared  to  have  gathered  curiously  around 
the  dark,  tall  form  of  the  priest,  who  stood  leaning 
thoughtfully  against  the  pedestal  of  a  Hebe. 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  47 

"This  study,  or  library,  is  characteristic  of  you,  my 
son,"  began  Severinus,  when  Ottmar  returned.  "I  see 
everywhere  the  results  of  the  two  dominant  powers  of 
your  nature, — intellect  and  sensuality, — but  no  piety;  a 
worship  xof  the  mind,  a  worship  of  nature:  but  where, 
where  are  the  traces  of  religion  ?  Have  you,  then,  utterly 
cast  aside  what  you  adopted  when  with  us?" 

"Father  Sevjerinus,"  said  Heinrich,  advancing  until 
be  stood  face  to  face  with  him,  "we  are  alone.  Be 
frank;  do  you  ask,  you,  that  I  shall  become  a  devotee?" 

Severinus  gazed  at  him  long  and  earnestly.  "  That 
you  should  become  a  devotee  ?  No !  What  I  ask  of  you 
is  consistency !  When  with  us  you  apparently  became 
deeply  imbued  with  religious  feeling,  and  openly  dis- 
played it  on  all  occasions.  Now  you  deny  it;  therefore 
you  have  either  lost — in  which  case  you  are  to  be  pitied, 
or  never  possessed  it,  when  you  deserve  great  blame 
for  the  deception  you  have  practiced  in  relation  to  the 
most  sacred  things  and  towards  us." 

Heinrich  was  silent.  He  felt  the  justice  of  the  priest's 
reproof,  and  found  no  reply;  at  the  same  time  he  was 
stupefied  by  the  dim,  flickering  light  and  the  excitement 
of  the  last  hour,  and  could  not  suppress  a  slight  yawn. 
Father  Severinus  was  also  silent,  and  waited  patiently 
for  a  reply.  At  last  Heinrich  said,  impatiently:  "Most 
reverend  father,  you  might  spare  a  great  deal  of  your 
pathos.  I  do  not  deny  the  truth  of  your  reproach  ;  the 
only  doubt  is  whether  it  specially  concerns  me,  for  I 
must  confess  to  you  that  it  is  a  matter  of  comparative 
indifference  whether  you  have  cause  to  be  indignant  or 
not.  I  have  released  myself  from  your  authority,  and 
belong  to  another  party,  so  I  have  nothing  more  to  expect 
or  endure  from  you.  True,  ^ou  have  succeeded  in  making 
me  suspected  at  this  court;  but  I  shall  find  means  to  jus- 
tify myself,  and  then  we  will  see  which  of  us  has  most 
occasion  to  fear  the  other." 

"I  am  deeply  grieved  to  hear  this  language,  which,  by 
my  faith  in  Christ,  I  have  not  deserved,"  replied  Severi- 
nus. "I  am  guiltless  of  the  measures  the  hasty,  newly- 
appointed  agent  for  Germany  induced  the  Father  General 
to  employ  against  you.  Will  you  believe  me  ?" 


48  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

Heinrich  bowed.  "  I  am  well  aware  that  you  are  too 
proud  to  adopt  such  a  course." 

"Well  then,  for  what  wrong  can  you  upbraid  me, 
which  justifies  this  inconsiderate,  heartless  language  ?" 
He  paused  arid  looked  at  Heinrich,  who  bit  his  lips  and 
drummed  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  "  What  wrong  has 
the  order  done  you  that  you  take  upon  yourself  the  task 
of  entering  upon  a  contest  with  it?"  repeated  Severiuus. 
Another  pause  ensued.  "What  could  induce  you  to 
commit  such  a  breach  of  faith  ?" 

"  I  have  committed  no  breach  of  faith  !"  exclaimed 
Heinrich,  "  for  I  never  belonged  to  you  ;  I  am  and  was 
a  free-thinker.  For  a  long  time  I  admitted  your  great 
and  manifest  excellences,  but  the  longer  I  remained 
among  you  the  more  I  learned  to  hate  you  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  your  order,  whose  sole  aim  is  the  subjection  of 
the  mind  to  your  dogmas,  or  rather  your  authority,  an 
object  to  attain  which  you  know  how  to  employ  every 
conceivable  means,  good  as  well  as  bad.  Do  you  really 
ask  a  man  of  my  nature  to  submit  to  become  the  tool  of 
such  plans?  If  you  could  expect  it,  it  was  your  fault, 
not  mine,  if  you  now  find  yourselves  deceived." 

"  To  that,  my  son,  I  have  two  answers,"  replied  Sev- 
erinus,  after  a  short  pause  of  reflection.  "  If  the  princi- 
ples of  our  order,  which  the  hand  of  God  has  hitherto 
wonderfully  protected,  seem  to  you  so  worthy  of  blame 
that  you  consider  it  a  duty  to  oppose  them  and  prepare 
a  better  fate  for  vour  nation  by  vour  own  ideas,  I  can 

*  w     w 

say  nothing  against  it  in  my  own  person,  except  that  I 
pity  your  error,  while  I  can  pay  a  certain  respect  to  the 
man  who  has  at  heart  the  welfare  of  his  people,  even 
though  his  views  may  be  mistaken.  But  you,  Heinrich, 
do  not  oppose  us  from  the  necessity  of  preserving  your 
country  from  a  supposed  evil,  nor  from  the  sanctity  of  a 
firm  though  erroneous  conviction,  but  merely  out  of 
vanity,  that  thereby  you  may  play  a  prominent  part  before 
your  revolutionary  party.  You  know  nothing  more  sub- 
lime and  imperishable  than  the  worldly  admiration  be- 
stowed upon  you,  because  the  reward  and  recognition  of 
Christ,  promised  by  his  vicars  throughout  eternity,  are 
incredulously  scorned  by  your  narrow  soul.  Vanity  and 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  49 

egotism  are  answerable  for  your  actions  towards  us,  and 
even  destroy  the  paltry  merit  of  having  sacrificed  your- 
self for  your  convictions." 

"  Oh,  Ottilie,"  Heinrich  suddenly  exclaimed,  in  bitter 
wrath,  "  gentle,  innocent  angel  !  How  much  better  you 
understood  me !" 

"  That  is  not  all  I  have  to  say  in  reply/'  continued 
Severinus,  without  permitting  himself  to  be  at  all  dis- 
turbed by  the  interruption.  "  If,  as  I  have  just  seen,  the 
reproach  of  acting  from  selfish  impulses  wounds  you  so 
deeply,  tell  me  what  noble  motive  induced  you  to  remain 
a  year  with  men  whom  you  abhor,  receive  every  possible 
proof  of  friendship  from  them,  and  feign  enthusiastic  in- 
terest in  a  faith  which  seems  to  you  pernicious  and  crimi- 
nal ?  Pray  answer  this,  if  you  can." 

"  I  can,"  replied  Heinrich,  quietly.  "  Chance  and 
ennui  threw  me  into  your  hands.  You  took  me  to  the 
college.  The  genius  of  your  system  attracted  me;  I 
wished  to  penetrate  the  mysterious  nimbus  which  sur- 
rounded you,  to  investigate  you  and  your  nature,  as 
people  desire  to  examine  every  curiosity.  You  interested 
me,  and  I  very  soon  perceived  that  it  would  only  cost  me 
a  little  hypocrisy  to  acquire  knowledge  which  would  be 
useful  all  my  life.  I  looked  upon  it  as  a  necessary  en- 
trance-fee, and  paid  you  with  it.  Why  did  you  not  see  that 
the  coin  was  false  ?  You  trained  me  for  diplomacy,  and 
drilled  me  in  the  arts  of  dissimulation,  to  which  you  gave 
the  noble  name  of  'self-command.'  As  I  learned  them 
I  tested  them  on  you,  and  thus  you  see  that  my  diplomatic 
career  began  by  making  you  the  first  victims  of  your 
own  teachings,  and  by  deceiving  you.  Truth  will  pardon 
my  year  of  faithlessness  for  the  sake  of  a  lifetime  of 
repentance." 

"  That  sounds  very  strange,"  said  Severinus.  "  Did 
we  teach  you  hypocrisy?  To  conceal  the  truth  without 
telling  a  lie  is  the  art  we  communicated  to  aid  you  in 
your  diplomatic  career.  But  granted  that  it  was  so-, 
granted  that  we  taught  you  dissimulation  to  obtain  cer- 
tain necessary  ends,  should  not  common  human  gratitude 
have  withheld  you  from  betraying  in  such  a  despicable 
manner  the  men  who  trusted  you  ?" 
c  5 


50  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Gratitude,"  laughed  Heinrich,  "  for  what?  Did  you 
receive  me  cordially  and  bestow  your  instruction  upou  me 
for  my  own  sake?  Certainly  not.  Why  did  you  expel 
poor  Albert  Preheim,  who  was  miserably  poor,  depend- 
ent, and  sincerely  devoted  to  you  ?  Because  he  had  not 
sufficient  ability  to  serve  you,  because  he  was  a  man  of 
limited  intellect.  You  did  not  keep  me  for  my  good  but 
your  own,  because  you  expected  to  find  in  me  a  useful 
tool,  because  a  skillful  agent  for  this  country  was  neces- 
sary. Tell  me  yourself,  would  you  have  done  all  this  for 
me  if  the  matter  had  only  concerned  my  welfare  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Severinus ;  "  our  mission  is  to  serve  God 
alone.  This  claims  us  so  entirely  that  the  interests  of 
individuals  must  be  excluded.  We  cannot  trouble  our- 
selves about  any  one  who  is  not  in  some  manner  useful 
to  this  end;  he  must  apply  to  those  orders  whose  sole  vo- 
cation is  the  practice  of  Christian  charity.  If  he  cannot 
find  among  them  the  benefits  he  seeks,  he  would  not  be 
worthy  of  ours." 

"  Well,  for  what  do  I  owe  you  gratitude  ?"  asked 
Heinrich. 

"  Because  you  were  afforded  an  opportunity  to  advance 
the  holiest  cause,  to  become  a  fellow-laborer  in  the  service 
of  the  Highest  Being.  What  are  we  men,  what  is  our 
feeble  influence  ?  Only  when  we  belong  to  a  great  baud, 
unite  our  strength,  direct  our  manifold  powers  towards 
one  lofty  aim,  do  we  feel  strong  and  have  real  weight. 
And  the  more  we  enter  into  the  struggle  of  the  whole, 
the  more  petty  cares  for  ourselves  disappear,  then  only 
do  we  obtain  true  contentment." 

"  My  noble  Severinus,"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  "do. you 
not  suppose  that  I  too  belong  to  such  a  band,  like  all  who 
are  imbued  with  one  great  aim  ?  Do  you  not  suppose  that 
there  are  sacred  interests  in  the  world  and  among  nations, 
whose  representatives  are  united  by  an  invisible  bond  of 
common  activity  ?  Are  you  not  sure  that  in  our  world 
also  there  are  such  associations  which,  without  compul- 
sion or  vows,  without  being  bound  by  time  and  space,  or 
ruled  by  statutes,  have  an  eternal  existence?" 

"What  you  say  sounds  very  noble;  I  know  these  are 
your  philosophical  catch-words,  but  it  is  untenable,"  said 


MASTER   AND  PUPIL.  51 

Severinus.  "Your  union,  supposing  that  such  an  one 
might  exist  in  fancy,  is  too  diffuse  to  produce  the  con- 
sciousness of  mutual  dependence,  which  can  alone  suppress 
selfishness  in  individuals;  you  gentlemen,  who  desire  to 
promote  the  happiness  of  the  world,  always  have  room 
enough  within  the  limits  of  your  imaginary  union  to 
cherish  your  individual  cares  and  interests,  and  make 
war  upon  yourselves.  Even  though  your  object  may 
perhaps  be  the  same,  you  are  always  at  variance  about 
the  means  of  attaining  it;  nay,  you  are  often,  from  purely 
personal  motives,  most  bitter  enemies.  You  may  have 
an  association,  but  you  have  no  unity,  and  your  efforts 
are  unsuccessful  in  consequence  of  your  want  of  harmony. 
You  lack  positive  legal  consolidation,  which  is  the  secret 
of  our  power;  and  while  you  win  at  tea-tables  men  of 
superior  minds  to  join  your  confederacy,  we  deprive  you 
of  the  masses.  You  can  undoubtedly  belong  to  such  a 
band  without  injury  to  your  egotism, "he  added,  smiling; 
"but  you  will  always  feel  discontented  and  solitary."  He 
paused  and  gazed  at  Heinrich,  then  continued:  "How 
differently  you  would  labor  with  us!  My  son,  is  there 
no  way  of  bringing  you  back?  Is  there  no  feeling  of 
devotion  which  binds  you  to  me  ?  You  say  you  are  free 
from  every  obligation  to  the  order ;  are  you  also  free 
from  all  obligations  to  me?  I  think  I  have  done  more  for 
you  than  even  our  purpose  would  have  rendered  neces- 
sary. As  prefect  of  the  college,  all  manner  of  claims 
were  made  upon  me ;  yet  when  my  days  were  occupied  I 
sacrificed  my  nights  to  initiate  you  into  secrets  which  the 
order  confides  only  to  a  chosen  few.  I  have  borne  with 
your  thousand  caprices,  smothered  your  passions  with  in- 
exhaustible indulgence,  and  unweariedly  labored  to  de- 
velop your  great  talents.  I  wished  to  obtain  you  for  our 
cause,  not  only  because  we  needed  remarkable  powers, 
but  also  because  I  knew  of  no  greater  happiness  for  your- 
self. In  you  I  learned  to  love  men  once  more;  for  your 
sake,  I  have  become  tolerant,  for  your  sake  I  have  come 
from  Rome.  My  chilled  heart  warmed  towards  you  as 
towards  a  son.  Does  this  deserve  no  love, — not  even  for- 
bearance ?" 

"  Love !"  said  Heinrich,  impatiently.     "  What  do  you 


52  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

desire?  Men  do  not  love  each  other.  I  honor  you,  for 
you  are  the  best  and  noblest  of  all  in  th§  college,  and  if 
we  had  a  common  interest  I  would  gladly  join  you  ;  but  I 
do  not  deal  in  useless  feelings,  and  frankly  confess  that 
I  don't  understand  how  people  can  have  them,  except 
towards  women." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  exclaimed  Severinus.  "  So  you  be- 
lieve you  love  only  what  you  desire  to  possess.  You 
love  nothing  at  all,  Heinrich,  and  I  resign  all  hope  of 
moving  you  by  gentleness  and  kindness."  So  saying,  he 
started  up  and  again  leaned  against  the  pedestal  of  the 
marble  Hebe,  who  vainly  held  her  goblet  of  joy  above 
his  head.  His  delicately  cut  features  were  slightly  flushed, 
and  his  dark  eyes  flashed  an  imperious  glance  at  Heinrich. 
"  Here  stands  a  man  who  has  devoted  his  whole  life  to 
the  service  of  a  divine  idea.  Educated  in  a  Jesuit  college, 
sent  into  the  world  as  an  ecclesiastical  coadjutor,  and 
finally  promoted  to  the  rank  of  assistant,  I  learned  to 
share  all  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  our  order,  and  have  be- 
come a  Jesuit  from  the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  sole  of 
my  foot.  I  have  felt  every  passion  struggle  within  me 
and  subdued  them  all  :  for  the  honor  of  God  was  the 
object  unchangeably  before  my  eyes;  I  used  my  life  only 
as  a  preparation  for  eternity,  and  therefore  proudly  ap- 
proach death  without  blenching.  Will  you  meet  .the 
annihilation  in  which  you  believe  as  calmly?" 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Heinrich,  coldly. 

"  And  if,  instead  of  your  deities  of  sensuality  which 
beckon  to  you  here,  a  bleeding  Christ  should  appear 
before  you  in  his  chaste  mother's  lap,  pleading,  '  Turn 
back  to  those  who  will  guide  you  in  my  ways ' " 

"I  would  say  to  him,  'Lord,  guide  me  in  thy  ways 
thyself  T  "  exclaimed  Heinrich,  with  a  forced  laugh. 

"And  if  we  threatened  you  with  the  curse  of  the 
church  ?" 

"  I  would  become  a  Protestant." 

"  Misguided,  accursed  son  of  the  flesh,  with  which  you 
defile  the  vessel  of  divinity,  your  joys  shall  one  day  be 
shivered  by  the  band  of  the  Lord  like  this  idol!"  cried 
Severinus  in  an  outburst  of  fury,  seizing  the  Hebe  and 
dashing  it  so  violently  at  the  feet  of  the  startled  Heinrich 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  53 

that  the  room  shook  and  the  graceful  head  rolled  a  long 
distance.     The  dust  rose  from  the  floor  in  clouds. 

For  a  moment  Heinrich  stood  petrified  with  astonish- 
ment, gazing  regretfully  at  the  beautiful  broken  limbs. 
"  So  you  intend  to  close  our  conversation  with  this  re- 
sounding crash,  father  ?"  he  asked  at  last,  when  he  had 
recovered  his  former  sarcastic  mood. 

"Close?  Oh,  no;  we  have  not  done  with  each  other 
yet,"  said  Severinus,  as  he  paced  up  and  down  the  apart- 
ment several  times,  and  then  suddenly  paused  with  quiet 
dignity  before  Heinrich.  "  This  is  the  most  disgraceful 
trick  my  impetuous  temper  has  ever  played  me.  For- 
tunately, I  can  replace  your"  broken  property.  It  would 
be  far  more  difficult  to  repair  the  moral  loss  you  have 
sustained  in  this  hour.  We  will  come  to  an  understand- 
ing quietly.  My  recent  violence  was  the  last  outbreak 
of  my  sorrow  for  your  loss,  but  your  cold  derision  has 
chilled  my  affection  forever.  Ascribe  it  to  your  own  con- 
duct if  my  dealings  with  you  are  henceforth  destitute  of 
all  consideration.  The  man  is  dead  to  me,  you  are  now 
sjmply  the  enemy  of  my  church,  Whom  at  any  cost  I  must 
disarm." 

Heinrich  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  "  Indeed,  I 
am  curious  to  learn  in  what  way  you  will  propose  to 
effect  this." 

"  You  shall  know  at  once.  We  must  first  determine 
the  relations  in  which  you  will  in  future  stand  towards  our 
order." 

"  That  would  be  useless  labor,  father,  since  for  a  long 
time  no  relations  have  existed  between  us,  and  none  will 
ever  be  formed  again  1" 

"  They  will,  they  must  exist !  The  tie  was  formerly  a 
voluntary  one  on  your  part,  now  it  will  be  compulsory : 
that  is  the  only  difference.  You  have  proved  to  me  that 
you  have  secretly  deserted  us,  my  care  will  be  to  prevent 
your  making  it  public  ;  and  since  persuasion  is  unavailing, 
this  must  be  done  by  force." 

"  Force?"  cried  Heinrich,  starting  up.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

"  Simply  that  I  possess  means  to  compel  you  to  that 
which  you  will  not  do  of  your  own  free  will." 

5* 


54  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"  Father  Severinus,  we  intimidate  children  in  this  way, 
but  not  men!" 

Severinus  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face.  "  Have  you 
ever  seen  me  employ  empty  threats?" 

"  No,"  replied  Heinrich,  with  visible  anxiety. 

"Very  well;  then  let  us  come  to  the  point  without 
further  circumlocution.  You  must  first  of  all  be  fully 
informed  of  your  present  situation.  That  you  are  pointed 
out  as  our  agent,  and  consequently  in  disfavor  here,  you 
know,  and  also  that  you  must  take  leave  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, if  you  prefer  an  honorable  voluntary  resignation  to 
a  disgraceful  dismissal." 

"And  why  must  I  do  this?  Who  can  dismiss  me  on 
the  ground  of  such  vague  accusations?" 

"  These  accusations  will  be  proved." 

"  They  cannot  be,  for  I  shall  find  means  to  justify  my- 
self. Although  I  cannot  deny  having  been  for  some  time 
connected  with  you,  it  does  not  follow  that  this  is  still 
the  case." 

"  That  too  is  provided  for.  We  possess  the  most  irre- 
futable proofs  that  you*still  maintain  an  intercourse  with 
us  by  letter."  He  drew  out  a  small  portfolio.  "Now  I 
will  ask  you  for  a  lamp."  Heinrich  lighted  the  candles, 
and  saw  two  envelopes,  which  Severinus  held  out  to  him, 
addressed  in  his  own  hand.  "  You  see, — these  envelopes 
contained  the  replies  to  the  General's  requests  concern- 
ing the  erection  of  a  private  institution  in  H .  We 

shall  know  how  to  conceal  the  fact  that  these  answers 
were  refusals.  It  is  enough  that  the  postmarks  on  en- 
velopes addressed  by  your  own  hand  will  afford  proofs  of 
the  recent  existence  of  a  secret  correspondence." 

"And  of  what  use  will  they  be  if  you  are  forced  to 
conceal  their  contents?  Suppose  you  are  asked  why  you 
do  not  produce  the  letters  themselves?" 

"It  will  be  sufficient  reason  to  say  that  they  contained 
important  secrets  which  we  cannot  reveal  on  any  account." 

Heinrich  passionately  struck  his  brow.  "Oh,  could  I 
suspect  that  I  had  to  deal  with  men  to  whom  no  measures 
are  too  petty,  and  who  are  not  ashamed  to  collect  pitiful 
envelopes  and  use  them  to  aid  their  designs  !" 

"  Nothing  is  so  trivial  that  it  is  not  worth  the  trouble  of 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  55 

keeping,  if  it  can  serve  the  holiest  cause.  Our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  was  not  ashamed  to  pick  up  a  piece  of  old 
iron ;  why  should  not  we,  his  servants,  make  even  the 
most  trifling  things  useful  for  his  designs  ?" 

"  I  hope,  father,  that  you  yourself  feel  the  humorous- 
ness,  not  to  say  absurdity,  of  such  logic  at  this  moment." 

"  Let  us  not  digress.  I  am  aware  that  our  proceed- 
ings can  in  no  case  meet  with  your  approval,  and  bear 
"you  no  ill  will  for  it ;  therefore  I  have  not  submitted 
them  to  your  judgment.  Every  word  which  does  not 
directly  concern,  the  matter  in  hand  is  a  mere  waste  of 
time." 

"  Well,  then,  father,  we  will  use  very  few.  Tell  me 
exactly  what  you  require." 

"  That  you  should  bind  yourself  to  contend  with  us  no 
longer." 

Heinrich  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "And  by  these  un- 
tenable threats  you  wish  to  induce  me  to  take  such  a 
step !  No,  father,  we  have  not  yet  gone  so  far.  Al- 
though I  have  no  proofs  that  our  correspondence  was  a 
hostile  one,  you  are  equally  unable  to  show  that  it  was 
confidential  and  friendly  ;  far  less,  that  I  have  failed  in 
my  duty  towards  my  own  government.  Our  risks  are 
equal." 

"  If  they  are,  I  need  only  throw  in  these  papers  and 
your  scale  will  sink !"  He  held  aloft  a  roll  of  manuscript. 
"  Here  are  the  proofs  of  the  offenses  you  committed 
against  your  government  and  court  during  your  stay  in 
Rome.  Whoever  sees  them  will  no  longer  doubt  that 
you  are  a  traitor  now  as  well  as  then!" 

"  Severinus  !"  cried  Heinrich,  fairly  beside  himself  with 
fury.  * 

"  Be  calm,  my  friend;  we  are  only  weighing  our  com- 
parative advantages  and  disadvantages.  If  you  compel 
me  to  make  these  papers  public,  your  honor  and  all  your 
ambitious  plans  are  destroyed  !" 

"  If  you  rob  me  of  my  future  career  "as  a  statesman, 
woe  betide  you  !  Do  you  see  what  an  enemy  you  will 
find  in  me?  I,  too,  am  in  possession  of  secrets  which 
you  would  not  desire  to  have  revealed  !" 

"  As  we  know  this,  my  friend,  we  do  you  the  honor  of 


56  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

treating  with  you.  Towards  any  one  else  we  should 
have  adopted  a  shorter  course.  The  only  point  in  ques- 
tion now  is  which  of  us  has  most  to  lose,  and  it  is  you  !" 

"  What  do  those  papers  contain  ?"  asked  Heinrich,  in  a 
hollow  tone. 

"  In  the  first  place  an  article  in  your  own  hand,  which 
you  prepared  at  the  rector's  command,  containing  the 
characteristics  of  this  court  and  those  of  the  most  influ- 
ential persons  who  surround  the  prince." 

"  That  can  only  compromise  me  personally,"  said 
Heinrich,  with  forced  composure. 

"  It  can  be  displayed  by  a  malevolent  person  as  an  act 
of  treachery  to  your  court  in  favor  of  the  Jesuits'  designs, 
— and  in  fact  it  was  intended  to  aid  us  in  our  first  stepa 
here." 

"It  failed,  however,  for  the  characteristics  were  not 
correct.  Any  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  relations  ex- 
isting here  will  instantly  perceive  that  they  are  inten- 
tionally falsified,  to  mislead  any  one  who  might  wish  to 
use  them." 

"  This  may  have  proceeded  from  want  of  judgment 
quite  as  much  as  design." 

Heinrich  suppressed  a  smile.  "  Oh,  father,  pardon  my 
lack  of  modesty  if  I  doubt  that  any  would  impute  want 
of  judgment  to  me!" 

Severinus  bit  his  lips.  "  You  were  then  a  very  young 
man,  whose  penetration  could  not  have  been  so  well  dis- 
ciplined as  now.  Meantime,  where  many  proofs  are 
brought  together  the  number  turns  the  scale,  and  I  pos- 
sess one  which  will  weigh  heavier  than  all  the  rest."  He 
drew  a  printed  document  from  his  breast  and  pointed  to 
the  title.  "Who  is  the  author  of  this  pamphlet  written  in 
favor  of  the  Jesuits  and  against  your  government  ?" 

"  I,"  said  Heinrich,  coldly.  "  But,  fortunately,  you  can 
create  no  proofs  of  the  fact." 

"We  can  procure  them." 

"No,  father;  there  was  but  one,  the  manuscript  written 
by  my  own  hand ;  and  this  no  longer  exists,  for  I  threw 
it  into  the  fire  myself,  and  saw  it  burn  with  my  own  eyes. 
I  knew  you  crafty  gentlemen  too  well  to  allow  such  a 
dangerous  document  to  fall  into  your  possession." 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  5f 

"You  burned  the  manuscript,  but  not  tine  proof-sheets," 
said  Severinus.  "  When  you  asked  for  them  you  were 
told  that  they  had  already  been  destroyed.  Here  are  the 
corrections  written  in  your  own  hand !  You  wondered 
at  the  time  that  we  should  have  such  miserable  composi- 
tors in  our  secret  printing-establishments,  because  you 
found  whole  words  wrong.  You  were  unsuspicious 
enough  not  to  perceive  that  the  errors  were  only  made  in 
order  to  obtain  as  many  corrections  as  possible  in  your 
handwriting ;  no  one  who  knows  its  peculiar  character- 
istics will  doubt  the  authenticity  of  this  document." 
Heinrich  turned  very  pale.  He  cast  a  glance  of  deadly 
hatred  at  Severinus,  who  was  quietly  watching  him. 
"  Moreover,  here  is  also  the  letter  you  sent  to  Father  K. 
with  the  pamphlets  he  had  ordered ;  and  although  you 
took  the  precaution  not  to  name  the  title,  no  one  will 
believe  that  you  submitted  to  the  judgment  of  the  General 
of  the  Jesuits  any  other  manuscript  than  one  written  in 
the  interests  of  the  order."  An  expression  of  bitter 
irony  played  around  the  priest's  delicate  lips.  "  It  seems 
to  me  that  you  were  not  aware  how  'crafty'  we  are! 
You  can  now  proceed  to  make  public  all  these  '  con- 
temptible coercive  measures,'  as  you  call  them;  you  may 
perhaps  thereby  injure  us  a  little,  but  you  will  not  justify 
yourself.  As  soon  as  this  secret  is  revealed  you  are 
lost.  Suppose  you  hold  psychological  discussions  with 
your  court  and  government  concerning  the  transformation 
which  has  taken  place  in  you,  and  the  causes  that  induced 
you  to  deny  your  convictions  for  an  entire  year, — you 
will  be  laughed  at,  and  your  name  will  be  handed  before 
all  parties." 

Heinrich  trembled  with  rage.  The  painful  dilemma 
into  which  he  found  himself  hurried  without  the  slightest 
warning,  the  incomprehensibility  of  his  situation,  the 
priest's  crushing  dialectics,  and  his  own  physical  exhaus- 
tion— all  these  combined  causes  so  bewildered  him  that 
he  lost  all  control  over  himself,  and  following  only  the 
blind  impulses  of  his  instinct,  he  vigorously  rushed  upon 
Severinus,  who  had  just  replaced  the  document  in  his 
breast.  "Hold!"  he  cried,  seizing  his  arm.  "Do  you 
really  suppose  I  will  voluntarily  leave  these  papers, 


58  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

which  decide  the  destiny  of  my  whole  life,  in  your 
hands?" 

Severinus  remained  perfectly  calm,  and  measured  him 
will)  a  contemptuous  glance.  "  Ottmar,  I  could  defend 
myself  if  I  did  not  have  sufficient  confidence  in  your  good 
sense  to  know  that  I  am  safe  from  violence." . 

After  a  long  pause,  Severinus  approached  him;  his  ex- 
pression became  more  gentle,  his  harsh  tone  softened, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  sorrow  was  mirrored  in  his  eyes  as 
he  laid  his  hand  gently  upon  the  young  man's  shoulder 
and  in  a  low  tone  murmured  his  name.  The  latter 
looked  up  sullenly. 

"  Ottmar,  I  do  not  act  for  myself,  but  for  my  church." 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me  for  whom  you  act 
if  you  destroy  my  career.  Oh,  it  is  despicable !  I  have 
robbed  you  of  the  labors  of  a  year,  but  you  are  defraud- 
ing me  of  a  whole  life !  Woe  to  him  who  rashly  ventures 
within  your  charmed  circle !  He  can  never  break  through 
it  without  being  crushed." 

"  Ottmar,  I  do  not  understand  how  you  could  ever 
have  imagined  we  would  send  such  an  invaluable  power 
into  the  world  without  holding  in  our  hands  the  leading- 
strings  by  which  we  could  draw  you  back  at  any  moment. 
Let  us  come  to  some  conclusion.  I  have  the  most  posi- 
tive orders  not  to  leave  Jiere  without  the  security  I  have 
already  mentioned.  If  you  do  not  promise  to-night  that 
you  will  voluntarily  send  in  your  resignation,  to-morrow 
I  must  commence  proceedings  which  will  make  you  a 
dishonored  man." 

"  And  I  am  to  allow  my  hands  to  be  tied,  I  am  to 
mount  to  this  height,  and  in  the  zenith  of  my  success  to 
be  hurled  back  to  every-day  obscurity,  laughed  at  and 
dishonored  !  No,  I  will  not  and  cannot  be  ruined  by 
you  !  You  recognize  only  the  fanaticism  with  which  you 
incessantly  pursue  your  own  aims.  I  too  am  a  fanatic ; 
but  it  is  in  the  cause  of  ambition,  and  to  this  everything 
must  yield,  good  and  bad.  You  shall  perceive  that  I 
have  not  been  your  pupil  in  vain.  You  have  impressed 
upon  me  the  stamp  of  your  society  to  brand  me  in  the 
eyes  of  my  party ;  but  what  will  injure  me  at  Protestant 
courts  will  aid  me  in  Catholic  ones.  If  I  am  reported  to 


MASTER  AND   PUPIL.  59 

be  a  Jesuit,  I  will  make  the  rumor  profitable.  I  will 
enter  the  service  of  a  Catholic  country  under  the  guise  of 
being  in  accord  with  you.  You  cannot  contradict  your- 
selves so  far  as  to  decry  me  here  as  an  ultramontanist 

and  there  as  a  liberal.  I  will  go  to  N ,  where  you 

are  sure  that  I  am  powerless  against  you.  If  this  is  not 
sufficient  security,  let  the  battle  begin, — I  can  do  no 
move  !" 

"It  is  the  only  expedient  that  you  still  have,  if  you 
seek  your  happiness  solely  in  the  brilliancy  of  a  diplo- 
matic career;  and  it  is  not  our  intention  to  exclude  you 
from  it,  for  we  do  not  wish  to  drive  you  to  extremities 

unnecessarily.  N is  at  least  the  only  place  where 

you  cannot  injure  us.  On  this  condition  we  will  mutu- 
ally spare  each  other  and  keep  the  peace ;  but  if  you 

succeed  in  obtaining  influence  in  N ,  and  should  ever 

attempt  to  use  it  against  us,  we  have  the  power  there  to 
crush  you  at  once  :  not  by  stratagem,  but  by  our  firmly- 
established  might.  Do  not  forget  this." 

"Ottilie,"  thought  Heinrich,  "you  spoke  the  truth.  I 
have  so  poisoned  the  air  with  my  falsehoods  that  I 
breathe  nothing  but  corruption,  and  am  rightly  served." 
"  Well,  then,"  he  said  to  Severinus,  "  your  holy  object  is 
attained  by  the  noblest  means.  You  thrust  a  man,  who 
has  hitherto  made  only  a  short  digression  from  the  path 
of  right,  into  a  course  of  wrong  and  hypocrisy,  careless 
whether  a  soul  is  destroyed,  so  that  appearances  are  pre- 
served." 

Severinus  cast  down  his  eyes.  "  The  cause  must  be 
saved ;  the  individual  must  be  sacrificed  to  the  cause. 
May  God  have  mercy  upon  his  soul,  if  that  which  should 
lead  him  to  good  turns  him  to  evil  I  Come,  we  will 
repeat  our  agreement  before  witnesses."  Severinus 
opened  the  door,  and  they  entered  the  drawing-room, 
where  the  others  were  waiting  with  anxious  faces. 

Heinridi's  offer  was  discussed  in  detail  and  confirmed 
by  his  word  of  honor,  after  which  he  took  a  formal  leave 
of  the  gentlemen. 

Severinus  turned  in  the  doorway  and  clasped  his  hand. 
"I  do  not  know  what  mysterious  impulse  of  affection 
binds  me  to  you,  that,  while  treating  you  as  my  worst 


60  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

enemy,  tears  of  sorrow  dim  my  eyes,  although  I  have 
only  faithfully  obeyed  my  orders.  For  Christ's  sake  for- 
give me,  as  I  pardon  you,  and  if  ever  you  need  me  call 
upon  me !"  He  gazed  at  Heinrich  with  all  the  strange 
meaning  of  his  wonderful  eyes.  It  seemed  as  if  their 
brilliancy  was  shadowed  by  tears  as  he  asked,  "Shall  I 

not  see  you  again  when  I  return  to  H in  a  few 

weeks  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Heinrich.  "  I  shall  send  in  my  resignation 
to-morrow,  and  depart  as  soon  as  possible." 

Severinus  suddenly  clasped  him  passionately  to  his 
breast.  "  Farewell,  my  lost  son  1  From  this  hour  I  will 
love  nothing  but  God  !"  Then  he  went  down  the  stair- 
case with  a  steady  step,  without  casting  another  glance 
behind.  Old  Anton  lighted  the  way,  and  then  returned, 
pale  but  calm. 

"Where  is  Roschen?"  exclaimed  Henri,  who  was 
longing  to  forget  the  tortures  of  the  past  hour  in  the 
arms  of  love. 

"  She  is  not  here,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  Not  here  ?"  asked  Henri,  in  amazement.  "  Where  is 
she  ?" 

"  Forgive  me,  Herr  Baron  !  I  could  do  nothing  else, — 
I  took  her  home  to  her  father." 

"  What !  what !"  cried  Henri,  fairly  beside  himself 
with  rage.  "  Did  you  dare  to  oppose  your  master  ? 
Leave  this  house  early  to-morrow  morning  before  I  am 
up  I  I  will  never  see  you  again  !" 

He  threw  a  heavy  purse  at  his  feet.  The  old  man 
burst  into  tears,  and  his  knees  trembled  under  him. 

"Herr  Baron,"  he  said,  ia  a  choking  voice,  "may  you 
never  regret  having  driven  such  a  faithful  servant  from 
you  !  Farewell !  may  God  preserve  you  1" 

With  these  words  he  tottered  out  of  the  room,  while 
Ottmar  threw  himself  upon  his  couch  in  a  mood  of  sullen 
discontent ;  for  the  first  time  consciousness  of  his  marred 
existence  came  over  him  with  crushing  distinctness. 

The  second  step  was  taken ;  he  had  fallen  one  degree 
lower.  The  warning  voice  had  not  failed  him,  but  Ego- 
tism must  complete  his  work  at  the  cost  of  everything 
else. 


MASTER  AND  PUPIL.  61 

The  first  act  Heinrich  had  committed  against  his  con- 
science, under  the  influence  of  this  terrible  demon,  was 
the  game  he  had  played  for  a  year  with  the  Jesuits,  in 
order  to  obtain  knowledge  which  would  be  useful  in  his 
career.  When  he  afterwards  came  to  the  decision,  where 
he  had  an  equal  amount  to  lose  or  gain,  he  chose  the  path 
of  truth  ;  but  now  he  again  encotfntered  the  necessity  of 
sacrificing  his  ambition  or  his  convictions,  and  principle 
was  compelled  to  yield  to  egotism.  He  would  henceforth 
choose  the  path  of  falsehood,  of  worldly  advantage,  in- 
stead of  the  only  one  which  could  lead  him  to  higher 
things. 

He  had  bound  himself  to  appear  in  N as  an  enemy 

of  progress, — to  aid  in  oppressing  an  impoverished  na- 
tion. He  must  persuade  his  conscience  that  all  his  ideas 
of  right  and  freedom  were  dead,  and  not  worth  the  sacri- 
fice of  a  whole  life  of  honor  and  influence, — that  the  phi- 
lanthropy which,  in  the  guise  of  an  earnest  sense  of  duty, 
had  lived  in  his  cold  intellect,  was  an  eccentricity  of  bis 
youth,  and  must  yield  to  his  own  advantage ;  in  truth, 
it  could  not  be  otherwise.  Only  the  emotional  nature 
makes  all  ideas  so  living  that  we  weep,  suffer,  and  bleed 
for  them  as  if  they  were  real  sentient  beings,  and  gives 
us,  for  men  whom  we  cannot  draw  within  the  circle 
visible  to  our  senses,  that  warm  feeling  of  sympathy 
which  we  call  philanthropy.  But  he  had  lost  this  power, 
and  with  it  a  true  sense  of  honor,  yet  to-night  he  found 
no  repose.  He  was  formed  by  nature  for  noble  ends,  and 
although  he  no  longer  felt  as  he  had  done  in  former  days, 
he  knew  what  his  emotions  were  once.  He  knew  the 
difference  between  right  and  wrong,  and  that  he  was 
choosing  the  latter,  and  looked  back  with  shame  upon  the 
preceding  day. 

Both  Heinrich  and  Henri  had  fallen  equally  low.  If 
Heinrich  had  crushed  his  sense  of  right  and  yielded  to 
ambition,  Henri  had  gone  so  far  in  his  pursuit  of  pleas- 
ure that  he  had  sought  to  destroy  a  young,  trusting 
heart,  and  angrily  driven  away  the  old  man  who  bad 
opposed  his  design.  Egotism  had  completed  his  vic- 
tory over  both  natures.  Haunted  by  these  and  similar 
thoughts,  he  at  last  fell  asleep  just  before  dawn. 

6 


62  A.   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

It  was  late  in  the  forenoon  when  he  awoke.  The 
rays  of  the  winter  sun  were  shining  upon  the  bright, 
blooming  landscapes  on  his  window  curtains ;  a  few  freez- 
ing, starving  birds  were  twittering  loudly;  everything 
bore  a  delusive  semblance  of  spring,  which  had  as  little 
existence  in  the  outside  world  as  in  his  own  breast. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  looked  around  him,  and  with  a 
deep  sigh  murmured  those  words  of  painful  disappoint- 
ment: "Thank  God,  you  have  only  been  dreaming!" 
He  sank  back  upon  his  pillows  for  a  moment ;  it  seemed 
as  if  his  soul  had  not  yet  opened  its  eyes  and  was  still 
slumbering,  while  he  watched  the  bright  colors  upon  his 
curtains.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  door  would  open 
and  old  Anton  come  in  to  wake  him.  "  Yes  !''  he  called 
aloud,  and  started  up.  But  he  found  himself  alone.  He 
rubbed  his  eyes  and  remembered  that  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  Anton  had  failed  to  rouse  him  at  the  right 
hour.  He  had  sent  him  away  that  very  night !  It  was 
no  dream:  he  had  really  done  and  experienced  every- 
thing! "What  has  been  begun  must  be  finished,"  he 
said,  with  gloomy  resolution,  and  rose  to  enter  upon  his 
sinful  new  career. 


VI. 

THE   PRISON    FAIRY. 

Six  years  afterwards,  on  a  cold,  dreary  November 
day,  a  grumbling,  discontented  crowd  was  waiting  before 
the  building  in  which  the  weal  and  woe  of  the  country  of 

N were  decided.     An  important  conference  had  just 

been  concluded,  —  a  consultation  concerning  increasing 
the  severity  of  the  punishments  inflicted  upon  political 
criminals.  Carriages  drove  up,  and  ministers  and  coun- 
cilors entered  them.  At  last  a  brilliant  equipage,  drawn 
by  two  snorting,  spirited  gray  horses,  dashed  up  so 
quickly  that  the  crowd  shrank  back  in  terror,  and  looked 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  63 

at  the  door  in  eager  expectation.  Two  servants  hastily 
let  down  the  steps.  A  slender  man  appeared  who  had 
not  yet  reached  middle  life,  but  on  whose  pallid  face 
sharp  lines  were  already  visible.  He  did  not  vouchsafe 
to  cast  a  glance  at  the  throng,  but  as  he  entered  the 
carriage  he  heard  those  near  him  whisper,  "  That  is 
Ottraar ;  he  is  one  of  the  worst  of  them."  The  door  was 
closed,  the  footmen  sprang  back  to  their  places,  and  the 
impatient  steeds  dashed  through  the  crowd  like  griffins. 

"Do  you  hate  me  at  last?"  murmured  the  cold  man 
in  the  carriage.  "  It  is  well ;  if  I  once  see  I  am  hated 
I  shall  be  able  to  shake  off  this  remnant  of  conscien- 
tiousness that  still  tortures  me,  and  henceforth  live  only 
for  myself  and  my  own  aims." 

The  carriage  stopped  before  a  castle-like  building,  the 
state  prison.  Ottmar  had  for  some  time  been  com- 
missioner of  one  of  the  revolutionary  provinces  of  the 
country,  where  of  late  a  new  uprising  was  feared,  and 
had  therefore  received  orders  to  try  to  draw  from  the 
political  prisoners,  who  were  natives  of  that  region,  dis- 
closures which  might  place  some  clue  to  the  conspiracy 
in  the  hands  of  the  government.  The  prince  had  se- 
lected him  for  this  office  because  his  cold  watchfulness, 
smoothness,  and  skill  in  dealing  with  different  natures 
seemed  to  make  him  peculiarly  fitted  for  it.  During  the 
short  time  that  Ottmar  had  been  in  the  employ  of  the 

N government   he  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  privy 

councilor  and  member  of  the  council  of  state,  and  dis- 
played his  talents  in  the  widest  spheres.  He  was  the 
trusted  friend  of  the  young  prince,  over  whom  he  ex- 
erted an  inexplicable  power,  executor  of  the  most  secret 
measures,  not  uufrequently  employed  to  deal  with  the 
agents  of  foreign  courts,  and  his  enemies  began  to  fear 
him  more  and  more  when  they  perceived  too  late  that 
his  influence  had  already  pervaded  the  whole  court. 

What  it  had  cost  him  to  submit  and  cringe  to  a  sys- 
tem which  his  inmost  soul  abhorred,  though  with  the 
longing  to  be  or  strive  for  something  better  he  had 
violently  crushed  down  every  other  feeling,  as  egotism 
and  ambition  had  always  suppressed  the  better  emotions 
of  unbiased  convictions,  was  stamped  in  terrible  char- 


64  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

acters  upon  the  haggard,  pallid,  but  still  handsome  face, 
the  frail  but  haughtily  erect  figure. 

He  walked  in  gloomy  silence  behind  the  guide,  who 
was  taking  him  to  the  worst  criminals  in  the  lower  story. 
A  cold  breeze  blew  over  him,  chilling  his  breast,  and  he 
,  involuntarily  said  to  himself,  "  Yet  men  are  compelled 
to  live  here  1"  It  seemed  as  if  the  sound  of  despairing 
sobs  reached  his  ear  through  one  of  the  iron  doors.  He 
paused  and  listened.  A  low,  soft  voice  appeared  to  be 
speaking  words  of  solemn  warning. 

"  Open  this  cell,"  he  said  to  his  guide ;  but  the  latter 
did  not  move. 

"Ob,  Herr  Baron!"  he  said,  imploringly,  "shall  we  not 
go  to  the  others  first  ? — the  man  in  there  is  very  violent." 

"Open  the  door!"  said  Heinrich,  imperiously. 

"  Have  mercy ;  we  are  all  ruined  men  if  you  do  not 
have  mercy  upon  us !"  stammered  the  guide,  in  the 
greatest  confusion. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  asked  Heinrich,  ex- 
tremely perplexed.  "  I  will  be  merciful  if  I  can,  but 
open  the  door  at  once." 

The  man  hesitatingly  unlocked  the  low  door,  and  Hein- 
rich stood  in  the  entrance  as  if  spell-bound.  A  young 
girl,  thoughtful  and  beautiful  as  artists  paint  the  Muse 
of  History,  was  sitting  on  a  stool  holding  in  her  lap  a 
book,  from  which  she  had  apparently  just  been  reading 
aloud.  She  was  bending  over  the  prisoner,  who  had 
thrown  himself  weeping  on  the  ground  at  her  feet,  and 
speaking  to  him  consolingly.  Heinrich  motioned  to  the 
guide  to  be  silent,  and  hastily  retreated  behind  the  door 
that  he  might  not  be  seen. 

"  You  have  come  too  early,  surely.  I  have  not  yet 
spent  half  an  hour  with  Sebastian,"  said  the  young  girl. 
A  pale  sunbeam  fell  upon  her  as  she  raised  her  head 
and  shook  back  from  her  face  a  mass  of  luxuriant  curls. 
Her  full  lips  pouted  a  little  as  she  asked  the  jailer, 
"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  to-day  ?  why  do  you  look 
at  me  so  ?" 

"  You  must  come  out  now,"  said  he. 

She  rose  slowly. 

"Stand  up,  Sebastian;  be  reasonable." 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  65 

She  bent  over  the  despairing  man  and  tried  to  help 
him  rise ;  but  he  pressed  his  face  still  more  closely  to 
the  damp  ground. 

"  Stand  up  !"  she  suddenly  commanded.  "  Behave  like 
a  man,  not  like  a  child,  if  you  wish  me  ever  to  come 
here  again." 

The  prisoner  rose.  He  was  an  old  man,  decrepit  and 
thin,  with  the  staring  eyes  peculiar  to  those  who  for 
years  have  vainly  endeavored  to  pierce  with  their  glances 
the  dungeon  walls  that  surround  them. 

"  Oh,  do  not  be  angry  1"  he  pleaded.  "  I  am  calm 
now." 

"  Farewell  for  to-day,  my  poor  Sebastian !"  she  said, 
returning  to  her  former  wonderfully  gentle  tone,  and 
walked  quickly  along  the  passage  to  the  next  door.  As 
she  looked  round  to  see  if  the  warden  was  going  to  open 
it  for  her  she  perceived  Heinrich,  who  could  now  no 
longer  conceal  himself.  He  advanced  towards  her,  and 
she  watched  his  approach  with  surprise,  but  very  calmly. 
Her  gaze  had  only  been  fixed  upon  his  breast,  which 
glittered  with  orders ;  but  as  he  stood  silently  before 
her  in  his  manly  dignity  she  raised  her  dark  eyes  to  his, 
and  their  glances  met  like  electric  sparks.  A  flush 
slowly  suffused  the  young  girl's  clearly  cut  face,  and  she 
involuntarily  cast  down  her  eyes  as  if  she  had  received 
a  shock. 

"  I  am  very  much  surprised  to  find  such  charming 
society  in  these  inhospitable  apartments,  Fraulein," 
Heinrich  began. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  so  very  astonishing  if  the  jailer's 
daughter  seeks  to  aid  her  father  in  his  arduous  duties." 

"  Pardon  me,  Fraulein,  if  I  take  the  liberty  of  doubt- 
ing the  accuracy  of  that  statement,"  said  Heinrich.  "A 
jailer's  daughter  does  not  use  such  language ;  besides, 
the  alarm  displayed  just  now  when  I  wished  to  enter 
the  cell  was  far  too  great  for  me  not  to  attribute  more 
importance  to  your  incognito.  I  am,  unfortunately,  com- 
pelled to  look  at  your  romantic  appearance  here  through 
the  extremely  prosaic  spectacles  of  an  official,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  obtain  information  in  regard  to  every  un- 
usual event ;  therefore,  by  virtue  of  my  office,  I  must 

6* 


66  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

inquire  your  name  as  well  as  request  an  explanation  of 
your  object." 

The  young  girl  looked  at  him  with  a  long,  steady 
gaze,  while  an  expression  played  around  her  lips  which 
Heinrich  had  never  before  seen  on  a  woman's  face, — a 
slight  shade  of  irony. 

"Very  well,  sir;  if  these  people  have  already  betrayed 
me  I  need  use  no  further  deception.  I  did  not  employ 
it  for  my  own  sake,  but  on  account  of  these  poor  em- 
ployees whom  I  have  estranged  from  their  duty.  My 
name  I  hope  I  may  be  permitted  to  conceal ;  but  I  owe 
you  an  explanation  about  my  object:  it  is  only  to  do 
good.  As  others  go  to  hospitals  to  heal  diseased  bodies, 
the  majority  of  which  can  no  longer  be  saved,  I  come 
hither  to  aid  sick  souls,  where  often  the  best  and  highest 
results  may  be  effected.  Do  you  think  that  so  romantic  ? 
I  have  surely  done  no  wrong  in  bribing  the  officials  here, 
partly  by  money,  partly  by  kind  words,  to  allow  me  to 
make  a  daily  round  through  the  cells.  In  charitable  in- 
stitutions the  doors  and  gates  stand  open  to  all  who 
wish  to  bring  aid  and  consolation  to  the  sufferers.  The 
thrice  wretched  unfortunates  in  our  prisons  are  refused 
all  means  of  cheering  and  ennobling  them.  No  account 
is  taken  of  individuality  here,  where  individuality  is  the 
sole  standard  of  measurement.  A  chaplain  is  sent  to 
admonish  criminals  to  repent,  who  is  to  convert  them 
all  in  a  lump  according  to  his  own  theories ;  but  people 
trouble  themselves  very  little  about  the  result  of  this 
manufacturing  method  of  conversion,  and  when  at  the 
expiration  of  their  imprisonment  the  criminals  are  sent 
back  into  the  world,  they  begin  again  just  where  they 
stopped  years  before." 

"  Oh,  Fraulein,  you  go  too  far !  The  punishment  it- 
self does  most,  for  it  terrifies  them,"  replied  Heinrich. 

"  Some,  but  certainly  by  far  the  smallest  number. 
Many  in  the  course  of  years  become  so  hardened  to  it 
by  custom  that  it  loses  its  terrors,  and  the  only  moral 
the  majority  draw  from  imprisonment  is — to  manage  more 
cautiously  in  future.  There  is  only  one  guarantee  for 
the  permanent  harmlessness  of  the  criminal  who  cannot 
be  imprisoned  for  life — amendment;  but  this  principal 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  67 

object  of  punishment  is  always,  made  subservient  to  the 
principle  of  avenging  the  insulted  law." 

"Well,  and  can  you  tell  me  also  how  this  amendment 
is  to  be  effected  ?"  asked  Heinrich,  with  increasing  in- 
terest. 

"  I  think  by  the  admitting  of  judicious,  trustworthy 
persons  who  can  understand  these  different  characters, 
and  influence  by  advice  and  instruction,  where  the  latter 
is  needed." 

"I  admire  your  sanguine,  philanthropic  ideas,"  re- 
plied Heinrich;  "but  tell  me  yourself,  my  honored 
Frtiulein,  would  not  the  state  have  too  much  to  do  if 
it  "was  compelled  to  take  into  account  the  peculiarities 
of  each  individual  criminal,  and  establish  and  pay  a 
whole  corporation  of  amendment  officials  ?" 

This  jeer  wounded  the  young  girl,  and  a  deep  flush 
crimsoned  her  noble,  intellectual  brow  for  a  moment ; 
but  after  a  pause  she  continued,  undasnted  :  "  Such  a 
task  would  perhaps  be  too  visionary  and  comprehensive 
for  the  government ;  but  the  citizens  would  come  to  its 
aid  in  this  as  well  as  in  benevolent  institutions,  and  from 
the  hearts  of  the  populace  a  corps  of  volunteer  amend- 
ment officials  would  arise,  in  which  our  noblest  patriots 
would  undoubtedly  be  associated.  But  I  have  no  inten- 
tion of  discussing  a  subject  upon  which  folios  have  been 
already  written,  and  which  you  understand  better  than 
I.  I  only  wished  to  give  the  motive  for  my  actions  ; 
and  your  recent  sneer,"  she  added,  in  a  slightly  defiant 
tone,  "  has  fully  convinced  me  that  you  will  at  least  con- 
sider these  '  sanguine  philanthropic  ideas '  in  the  mind 
of  a  fanciful  young  girl  too  harmless  to  put  them  on 
official  record,  so  my  examination  is  doubtless  over." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Heinrich,  firmly.  "  Your  ideas  and 
language  do  not  seem  to  me  quite  so  harmless  as  you 
suppose.  I  cannot  help  desiring  to  obtain  more  exact 
information  concerning  the  motives  of  your  acts  and.  the 
bearing  of  your  influence.  I  must  and  shall  find  means 
to  do  so.  You  stand  too  proudly  and  firmly  before  me 
for  me  to  be  able  to  believe  so  implicitly  in  the  purpose- 
lessness  of  your  enthusiasm.  I  am  a  servant  of  the 
government ;  as  such  it  is  both  a  duty  and  a  right  to  ask, 


68  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

'Who  are  you?  in  what  relations  do  you  stand  towards 
the  prisoners  ?  what  is  your  object  ?'  " 

"Who  I  am  I  Shall  not  tell  you;  in  what  relations  I 
stand  towards  the  prisoners  and  what  influence  I  exert 
you  can  learn  from  themselves;  as  for  my  object,  can  you 
not  understand  it  ?  I  am  making  myself  useful.  Do  you 
think  it  requires  another  and  more  important  purpose  to 
act  as  I  have  done  ?" 

"  Making  yourself  useful  ?"  repeated  Heinrich,  thought- 
fully. "  Do  you  really  imagine  you  are  of  much  use  here  ?" 

"  How  much  is  not  for  me  to  measure,  I  make  myself 
as  useful  as  I  can.  If  every  one  only  did  this  the  world 
would  be  happier.  It  is  not  the  success,  but  the  will, 
that  determines  the  value  of  an  act.  Vanity  asks  only 
about  the  result,  honest  purpose  is  satisfied  with  the 
doing." 

"Indeed !"  said  Heinrich.  "Are  you  so  totally  free  from 
vanity  ?" 

"  Oh,  no !"  She  suddenly  burst  into  a  merry  laugh,  and 
a  ray  of  bright  healthful  enjoyment  sparkled  in  her  eyes. 
"I  will  not  say  that.  God  forbid  that  I  should  surround 
myself  with  a  false  halo.  I  am  as  vain  as  every  other 
young  girl ;  it  is  only  where  the  sphere  of  my  earnest 
labor  is  concerned  that  I  am  humble  and  modest,  then  my 
own  person  retires  completely  into  the  background,  and 
I  live  solely  to  accomplish  my  purpose.  But  in  the  out- 
side world,  where  I  am  least  useful,  I  am  vain,  assuming, 
and  selfish.  I  have  often  thought  of  this  contradiction." 

"  I  understand  that,"  said  Heinrich  ;  "  you  feel  small  in 
comparison  to  your  ideas  and  wishes,  because  like  all 
gifted  human  beings  you  always  desire  more  than  you 
can  accomplish.  But  when,  outside  of  this  sphere,  you 
meet  with  commonplace,  petty  natures,  you  feel  great, 
because  you  desire  and  accomplish  so  much  more  than 
they.  Am  I  not  right?" 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes  in  astonishment,  and  looked  at 
him  earnestly.  "  You  are  right,  and  must  have  studied 
psychology  more  than  one  would  have  expected  from  a 
1  servant  of  the  government.'  " 

"  There  is  a  singular  blending  of  jest  and  earnest  in 
your  disposition,"  said  Heinrich.  "  I  have  never  before 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  69 

witnessed  such  rapid  transitions  from  gay  to  grave  and 
grave  to  gay  in  any  one.  Yes,  I  might  really  believe 
you  followed  only  your  own  impulses  without  motive  or 
purpose." 

"  Indeed,  indeed  you  can !  Believe  me,  I  am  doing 
nothing  and  want  nothing,  except  to  prove  my  love  for 
mankind  in  every  possible  way.  You  seem  to  give  me 
credit  for  political  intrigues  and  dangerous  connections. 
Oh,  go  to  the  prisoners,  and  convince  yourself  whether 
the  spirit  I  instill  is  a  revolutionary  one  or  one  of  humility 
and  repentance  !  By  the  manner  in  which  I  have  taught 
these  people  to  bear  their  misfortunes  you  will  see 
whether  my  intentions  are  good  and  pure;  and  then  you 
will  give  no  information,  but  permit  me  to  continue  my 
office  here,  will  you  not  ?" 

Heinrich  made  no  reply;  he  was  gazing  earnestly  into 
the  sparkling  eyes  of  the  suppliant.  Suddenly  he  pointed 
to  the  nearest  door.  "  Go  in  to  the  prisoner  there, — unob- 
served ;  I  will  watch  how  you  discharge  the  duties  of 
your  office  and  then  decide." 

The  warder  opened  the  door,  and  the  young  girl 
quietly  entered.  A  shrill  cry  of  joy  greeted  her.  "  Oh, 
Prison  Fairy  !  dear  Prison  Fairy !  have  you  come  at  last?" 
exclaimed  a  young  man. 

"  Why  does  he  call  her  that  ?"  Heinrich  asked  the 
turnkey,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  One  of  the  prisoners  gave  her  the  name,  and  since 
then  we  have  all  called  her  by  it,  because  we  know  no 
other,  and  this  suits  her  so  well." 

"  Oh,  dear  Fairy,  I  have  passed  another  terrible  night! 
So  long  as  you  are  here  I  am  as  good  as  a  child,"  con- 
tinued the  prisoner ;  "  but  when  you  go  away,  the  old 
sorrow  bursts  forth  again  in  all  its  fury.  Oh,  if  I  could 
go  out  into  the  world  and  satisfy  the  impulses  of  my  own 
heart !  Something  might  be  made  of  me  now,  but  after 
five  years  it  will  perhaps  be  too  late.  I  felt  that  last 
night.  True,  the  power  to  do  evil  may  perhaps  be 
broken  in  a  ten  years'  imprisonment,  but  so  is  the 
strength  to  do  well ;  and  when  I  am  sent  out  of  this 
place,  crippled  in  body  and  soul,  an  outcast  from  society, 
robbed  of  all  civil  honors  and  ability,  it  will  get  the 


70  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

dominion  over  me  again.  Then  I  shall  be  a  mere  idiot, 
who  can  no  longer  think  of  or  feel  anything  except  the 
greatness  of  his  own  misery;  and  for  the  assault  I  com- 
mitted in  a  moment  of  passion,  a  twofold  murder  will 
have  been  practiced  upon  my  body  and  soul  during  these 
ten  years  1" 

"Albert,  why  are  you  in  such  a  horrible  mood  to-day?" 
asked  the  young  girl,  in  alarm.  "  You  have  not  been  so 
for  a  long  time." 

"  Because  I  have  been  obliged  to  wait  for  you  during 
so  many  painful  hours ;  because  I  thought  you  were  not 
coming  again,  and  felt  that  in  you  alone  is  rooted  the 
power  which  has  upheld  me  for  the  last  three  years,  that 
I  should  be  lost  if  you  remained  away.  No,  I  have  not 
deserved  this  punishment." 

"Albert,  shall  I  repeat  what  I  have  always  told  you  ? 
Repeat  it  yourself." 

"You  Said  I  was  aware  of  the  punishment,  and  volun- 
tarily drew  it  upon  myself  by  my  crime,  that  I  must  bear 
what  was  the  result  of  my  own  guilt;  but  I  assure  you 
again  and  again  that  if  in  that  terrible  moment  I  had 
been  sufficiently  master  of  myself  to  be  able  to  think,  I 
should  never  have  committed  the  crime;  not  from  fear  of 
the  punishment,  but  of  the  sin." 

"  That  excuses  you  in  my  eyes,  but  not  in  those  of  the 
law.  Will  you  never  be  able  to  perceive  that  a  man  of 
such  blind  passions  must  be  made  harmless  ?  Who  will 
guarantee  that  the  next  instant,  spite  of  all  good  resolu- 
tions, he  may  not  be  attacked  by  the  same  madness  and 
commit  a  second  murder  ?" 

"  Harmless  !  Yes,  yes,  I  have  been  made  harmless !" 
he  groaned.  "  Why  do  you  conjure  up  all  the  stings  of 
conscience  when  I  so  greatly  need  consolation  ?" 

"  Because  I  see  more  clearly  than  ever  that  only  the 
memory  of  your  guilt  makes  your  misery  endurable;  be- 
cause you  complain  of  the  injustice  of  your  punishment, 
and  always  become  calmer  when  forced  to  acknowledge 
that,  if  not  deserved,  it  was  at  least  necessary  and  unfail- 
ing. And  has  not  God  sent  a  comfort  to  you  in  your 
sorrow, — a  soul  which  understands  you,  which  brings  news 
of  your  beloved  into  your  dungeon,  and  keeps  the  heart 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  71 

of  your  betrothed  bride  faithful  to  you  ?  Is  not  this  a 
divine  mercy  which  can  cheer  you?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  acknowledge  the  blessing,  and  for  the 
sake  of  this  mercy  will  strive  and  hope  that  I  may  pro- 
cure for  you  the  only  reward  you  can  receive,  noble, 
wonderful  creature ! — the  consciousness  of  having  saved 
a  soul!" 

"  Yes,  my  friend,  give  me  that  reward ;  it  is  the  noblest 
gift  which  can  be  bestowed  upon  me  for  my  efforts ;  and 
if  I  Ifve  to  see  the  day  when,  purified  and  ennobled,  you 
return  to  the  world,  I  shall  thank  God  more  fervently 
than  ever  for  having  given  me  a  heart  to  suffer  with 
others,  and  also  make  them  rejoice." 

"And  some  day  I  will  tell  my  children  of  the  'Prison 
Fairy  1'"  cried  the  young  man,  transported  with  hope. 

Just  at  that  moment Heinrich  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
"Well,  sir,"  said  the  young  girl,  "is  any  other  motive 
needed  for  my  conduct?  Do  you  now  believe  that  such 
a  moment  would  outweigh  years  of  fruitless  toil?" 

"I  understand  and  believe  you,  for  you  are  a  perfect 
enthusiast,"  said  Heinrich,  seizing  her  hand. 

"Do  you  call  this  enthusiasm?"  she  said.  "If  so, 
every  great  act  of  love,  from  Christ's  down  to  our  own 
times,  has  been  enthusiasm,  and  nothing  is  true  and  real 
except  enthusiasm  and  its  results.  I  confess,  sir,  that  if  all 
mankind  shared  your  views,  I  would  rather  live  with  my 
prisoners  in  this  dungeon  than  in  the  outside  world!" 

Heinrich  gazed  in  astonishment  at  the  proud,  girlish 
figure,  with  the  natural  dignity  of  a  pure,  unshaken  self- 
appreciation  on  the  undaunted  brow,  and  the  alluring 
grace  of  true  womanhood  in  the  soft,  undulating  outlines 
of  the  whole  frame  ;  and  an  admiring  reverence  over- 
whelmed him,  such  as,  for  many  a  long  year,  no  woman 
had  inspired  in  his  breast. 

"Do  not  misunderstand  me,  Fraulein.  You  take  the 
word  in  a  different  sense  from  the  one  intended.  Where 
enthusiasm  is  united  to  such  energy  as  you  possess,  it 
has  always  accomplished  the  noblest  deeds  the  world  has 
ever  known;  but  we  usually  give  that  name " 

"To  what  we  have  no  power  to  feel  ourselves,"  invol- 
untarily interrupted  the  excited  girl ;  and  it  seemed  as  if 


72  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

her  glance  rested  sorrowfully  upon  Heinrich's  beautiful, 
expressive  features. 

Eeinrich  stood  speechless.  He  felt  as  if  a  burning 
brand  had  suddenly  been  cast  into  the  dark  recesses  of 
his  soul,  and  bis  spiritual  eyes  were  following  the  light 
as  it  penetrated  deeper  and  deeper. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  prisoner's  voice  interrupted 
his  reverie. 

"Pardon  me,  sir,"  he  began,  timidly,  "have  I  not  the 
honor  of  seeing  Herr  von  Ottmar?" 

"Albert!"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  "is  it  really  you?  I 
thought  I  recognized  you,  but  doubted  it,  because  I 
should  have  expected  to  find  you  in  a  monastery  rather 
than  a  dungeon,  and  besides,  you  are  very  much  altered. 
How  did  you,  of  all  the  world,  happen  to  be  placed  in 
such  close  confinement?" 

"Oh,  Herr  von  Ottmar,  you  were  so  kind  to  me  at 
college,  may  I  tell  you  the  story  of  my  misfortune  ?"  said 
Albert,  the  person  who  had  been  at  the  Jesuit  college 
with  Heinrich,  and  of  whom  he  had  spoken  in  his  inter- 
view with  Severinus. 

"Will  you  allow  it,  Friiulein?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  young  girl,  joyfully.  "Per- 
haps the  tragical  history  may  for  once  arouse  even  in  you 
the  enthusiasm  of  compassion." 

With  these  words  she  glanced  at  Heinrich  with  a 
pleading,  inexpressibly  charming  smile.  The  latter  could 
not  turn  his  eyes  away  from  the  wonderfully  changeful 
face,  but  murmured,  as  if  in  assent,  "  Prison  Fairy  !" 

Meantime  Albert  had  commenced  his  story.  At  first 
Heinrich  gave  it  very  little  attention ;  gradually,  how- 
ever, he  became  attracted  and  listened  eagerly,  even 
anxiously.  Albert  related  how,  after  being  expelled 
from  the  order  in  the  second  year  of  his  novitiate,  he  had 
for  some  time  earned  a  scanty  support,  and  at  last  lived 
several  years  as  a  tutor  in  the  family  of  a  wealthy  Ger- 
man merchant.  Six  years  before,  this  family  removed 
from  Italy  to  Germany,  and  in  fact  to  the  very  capital 

where  Ottmar  had  lived  before  his  departure  for  N . 

"There,"  said  he,  "I  became  acquainted  with  a  young 
girl, — a  girl  who  was  really  as  pure  and  blooming  as  a 


THE  PRISOtf  FAIRY.  73 

rose.  I  had  never  loved  a  woman  before, — the  dark, 
ardent  Italians  were  repulsive  to  my  quiet  nature, — but 
when  I  found  the  thoughtful,  golden-haired  German 
maiden,  I  clung  to  her  with  fervent  affection.  She  loved 
me  ;  and  I,  who  had  been  tossed  about  the  world  from  a 
child,  was  intoxicated  by  her  tenderness,  as  if  it  were 
the  aroma  of  some  costly  wine.  I  gradually  neglected 
my  pupils,  my  duty,  and  several  times  received  censure ; 
but  in  vain.  Passion,  so  long  repressed,  was  aroused, 
and  locked  me,  the  novice,  completely  within  its  magic 
circle.  • 

"  But  now  I  became  the  sport  of  other  feelings,  which 
were  more  dangerous  to  me, — I  grew  jealous.  My 
beloved  suddenly  seemed  changed.  She  became  timid, 
absent-minded,  embarrassed,  and  day  by  day  colder.  I 
spoke  to  her  father.  The  old  man  asked  me  whether  I 
doubted  the  virtue  of  his  child.  The  fever  of  jealousy 
and  suspicion  increased.  I  had  no  thoughts  for  any- 
thing else,  and  no  longer  knew  what  I  was  doing.  Then 
one  day  my  employers  dismissed  me.  They  had  grown 
weary  of  my  indolence  and  absence  of  mind,  and  I  was 
penniless.  With  an  agonized  soul  I  hurried  through  the 
gathering  twilight  to  seek  my  betrothed.  I  wished  to 
find  her  heart  once  more, — the  heart  for  which  I  had 
sacrificed  and  lost  all.  She  was  deeply  moved  when  I 
told  her  of  my  misfortune  and  the  tortures  I  had  suffered 
for  her  sake  ;  and  as  in  decisive  moments  a  long-concealed 
truth  is  often  revealed,  her  innocent  breast  in  this  agita- 
tion could  no  longer  hide  its  secret.  She  confessed,  amid 
tears  of  agony  and  remorse,  that  she  was  on  the  point  of 
being  lost  to  me  forever ;  that  an  aristocratic,  handsome, 
brilliant  gentleman  had  tempted  her,  and  she  was  too 
weak  to  withstand  him ;  that  he  had  loaded  her  and  her 
father  with  favors  of  all  kinds,  and  she  had  thought 
gratitude  made  it  her  duty  to  obey  him  ;  nay,  he  had 
even  persuaded  her  to  come  to  his  garden,  but  there, 
heaven  be  praised  !  she  had  been  saved  from  disgrace  by 
his  old  valet.  The  gentleman  must  have  gone  away  on 
a  journey,  for  she  had  heard  nothing  more  from  him. 

"  So  I  bad  sacrificed  everything,  and  this  was  my  re- 
ward. I  stood  silent,  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  as  I 


74  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

leaned  against  the  window  in  the  little  dark  room  on  the 
ground-floor.  I  was  not  accustomed  to  say  much,  but  I 
felt  all  the  more.  A  cold  perspiration  trickled  down  my 
forehead  ;  my  clammy  hands  clinched  the  sill ;  the  lights 
out-of-doors  cast  strange,  unsteady  shadows  into  the 
room,  and  dim,  restless  shadows  settled  upon  my  brain. 
At  last  I  asked  with  difficulty,  'Who  is  the  scoundrel?' 
The  young  girl  had  been  standing  beside  me  pale  and 
trembling,  with  her  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  the  street. 
Suddenly  she  screamed  and  retreated  from  the  window 
in  alarm.  '  There  he  comes  I  so  he  hasn't  gone  yet !  It 
is  he!  he  is  coming!'  I  saw  a  tall,  slight  figure,  closely 
wrapped  in  a  cloak,  approach  the  house ;  heard  that  it 
was  he  !  The  blood  rushed  to  my  brain !  I  seized  an 
axe  that  was  lying  near  the  stove,  dashed  out,  and  felled 
the  approaching  figure  to  the  ground !  The  young  girl 
ran  after  me  in  terror,  saw  the  wounded  man,  and 
screamed,  '  Jesus  Maria  !  it  is  not  he  !  You  have  killed 
an  innocent  person  !'  I  felt  bewildered  and  unable  to 
move.  Just  then  the  man  opened  his  eyes,  looked  at  me, 
and  gasped  my  name.  My  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating ! 
I  had  killed  Father  Severinus !" 

A  long  pause  ensued.  The  prisoner  was  living  over 
these  scenes  again,  and  needed  a  moment  to  collect  his 
thoughts. 

Heinrich  gazed  fixedly  at  the  floor  in  silence.  The 
Prison  Fairy,  in  her  dark  dress,  leaned  calmly  against 
the  wall,  her  eyes  resting  on  Heinrich's  agitated  face. 

"  What  is  the  young  girl's  name  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"  Roschen,  the  daughter  of  Martin  the  beadle,"  replied 
Albert. 

"  And  you  do  not  know  the  name  of  your  rival  ?" 

"I  have  never  learned  it,"  continued  Albert.  "I  said 
no  more  to  Roschen  that  terrible  evening.  She  was  the 
first  to  regain  composure,  and  made  me  understand  I 
must  go  home.  Her  father  returned  immediately  after, 
and  procured  assistance  for  the  wounded  man,  who  did 
not  again  recover  his  consciousness  while  in  his  house. 
The  old  man  stated  that  he  had  found  him  in  the  street. 
He  could  swear  to  this  deposition,  for  he  did  not  suspect 
the  true  state  of  affairs.  So  no  one  thought  of  me  ex- 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  75 

cept  Roschen.  She  thought  he  would  never  open  his 
eyes  again  to  betray  me,  and  before  the  police  came  to 
Martin's  house,  to  avoid  a  possible  cross-examination, 
went  to  one  of  Princess  Ottilie's  maids.  The  latter 
instantly  took  her  to  the  princess " 

"What,  to  Ottilie  ?"  eagerly  interrupted  Heinrich. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Albert;  "the  princess  has  known 
her  for  a  long  time  through  the  maid,  who  was  well  dis- 
posed towards  Roschen,  and  often  gave  her  work.  The 
princess,  gracious  and  benevolent  as  she  always  is,  had 
once  told  her  if  she  had  anything  to  ask  to  come  to  her. 
So  on  this  terrible  day  Roschen  told  the  noble  lady  all  her 
troubles,  and  the  princess  induced  her  to  take  an  oath  never 
to  reveal  to  me  nor  any  one  else  who  her  tempter  was." 

"  Did  Rdscheu  mention  his  name  to  her?"  asked  Hein- 
rich. 

"Yes;  and  the  princess  must  have  been  very  kindly 
disposed  towards  the  gentleman, — she  insisted  so  earn- 
estly that  it  should  remain  concealed.  Then  she  gave 
Roschen  money  to  aid  me  to  escape  and  enable  me  to 
support  myself  for  a  long  time,  and  promised  to  take  her 
under  her  protection.  In  the  firm  conviction  that  Sev- 
eriuus  could  not  survive  the  blow,  I  was  mad*  enough  to 

fly  to  N ,  my  native  country.       But   although  the 

doctors  gave  him  up,  he  recovered  his  senses  sufficiently 
to  denounce  me  as  the  criminal.  He  expressed  the  most 
positive  suspicion  that  I  had  made  the  murderous  assault 
solely  from  revenge  towards  him  because  he  had  been 
the  first  in  the  college  to  declare  me  useless.  A  warrant 
was  issued,  and  I  was  arrested  and  brought  up  for  trial." 

"But  how  did  you  happen  to  receive  so  severe  a 
punishment,  when  Severinus  escaped  with  bis  life  and 
you  had  no  premeditated  design  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"But  I  had  no  means  of  proving  the  fact!"  cried 
Albert,  despairingly.  "  I  could  do  nothing  but  protest 
that  I  did  not  wish  to  punish  Severinus,  but  the  man 
who  had  tempted  my  betrothed  bride.  I  could  not  tell 
who  this  tempter  was,  for  I  did  not  know;  and  I  wished 
to  conceal  the  name  of  my  betrothed,  for  I  would  have 
died  rather  than  bring  the  hitherto  blameless  girl  into  a 
disgraceful  trial  and  brand  her  for  life.  Thus  I  could  not 


T6  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

prove  the  circumstances  which  might  have  placed  my 
act  in  a  more  favorable  light,  and  consequently  my  whole 
defense  was  rejected  as  a  mere  subterfuge.  The  state- 
ments of  the  angry  Severinus  were  far  more  clear  and 
positive  than  mine,  so  I  was  sentenced  to  ten  years' 
imprisonment  in  irons,  and  would  gladly  bear  my  misery, 
nay,  even  death,"  he  added,  gnashing  his  teeth,  "  if  I 
had  only  struck  down  that  scoundrel  of  a  seducer  instead 
of  the  innocent  Severiuus,  or  at  least  could  ever  discover 
who  he  is  1" 

"Who  he  is?  Look  at  me,  Albert!"  cried  Heinrich. 
11 1  am  that  scoundrel  /" 

"  Sir,  you  only  tell  me  so  because  I  stand  before  you 
in  chains,"  cried  Albert,  starting  up  like  a  wounded 
animal.  His  veins  swelled,  his  fingers  tore  at  his  fetters, 
his  breast  heaved  convulsively. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  unhappy  man  ?"  cried  Heinrich. 
"  Now  let  us  see  whether  you  will  venture  to  lay  hands 
upon  me." 

With  these  words  he  led  the  young  girl  out  of  the  cell, 
and  ordered  the  jailer  to  remove  the  irons  at  once. 

"  I  command  it,  and  will  be  responsible,"  he  said,  im- 
periously,'as  they  hesitated,  "and  then  lock  us  both  in 
from  the  outside."  The  fetters  were  taken  off,  and  the 
turnkeys  withdrew,  locking  the  door  behind  them. 

"  Now  summon  up  your  courage ;  you  see  that  I  am 
unarmed  and  your  chains  are  removed,"  said  Heinrich, 
standing  directly  before  him,  and  gazing  at  him  with  an 
unwavering  glance. 

The  unhappy  man  stood  motionless  for  a  moment, 
engaged  in  a  most  violent  struggle  with  his  emotions. 
At  last  his  whole  frame  trembled,  his  hands  fell  as  if 
weighed  down  by  fetters  of  double  weight,  and  he  sank 
at  Heinrich's  feet,  unable  to  utter  a  word. 

The  latter  gazed  at  him  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then 
knocked  on  the  door.  The  turnkeys  came  in  anxiously 
and  raised  Albert,  but  his  knees  still  trembled  so  violently 
that  he  was  obliged  to  sit  down  on  his  bed.  The  Prison 
Fairy,  with  a  sublime  expression  of  sympathy,  stroked 
his  burning  brow,  and  gazed  at  Heinrich  with  imploring 
expectation. 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  7Y 

The  latter  quietly  approached  the  group.  "  Albert,  I 
have  convinced  myself  that  you  can  subdue  your  passions. 
You  are  worthy  of  the  freedom  I  shall  now  help  you 
secure.  You  shall  no  longer  suffer  for  my  frivolity,  and 
both  you  and  this  lady  shall  be  convinced  that  I  am  no 
scoundrel.  Farewell  for  to-day." 

Albert  suddenly  clasped  his  hands  over  his  brow,  and 
a  flood  of  tears  relieved  his  oppressed  heart.  Heinrich 
looked  for  a  long  time  at  the  young  girl,  who,  with  pallid 
face,  was  gazing  silently  at  the  floor,  then  begged  her  to 
follow  him,  and  left  the  cell. 

When  they  were  outside,  he  asked,  "What  do  you 
think  of  me  now?" 

"  If  you  go  on  and  give  yourself  up  to  the  law,  as  the 
best  proof  of  Albert's  deposition,  I  shall  think  well  of 
you." 

"  I  have  determined  to  do  something  of  the  kind,"  said 
Heinrich,  "  and  I  hope  you  will  then  be  convinced  that 
I  am  not  so  entirely  destitute  of  all  enthusiasm." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad,  for  the  sake  of  my  prisoners." 

"  Only  for  your  prisoners  ?  Why  not  for  your  own 
sake  too  ?" 

"Because  it  will  principally  concern  the  welfare  of  the 
unfortunate  men  who  are  now  apparently  dependent  upon 
your  compassion.  I,  thank  God,  have  nothing  to  hope 
from  you." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Heinrich,  in  an  irritated  tone.  "  But 
if,  after  those  words,  I  refuse  you  permission  to  go  to 
your  proteges  again  ?" 

"You will  not  do  that,"  replied  the  young  girl,  firmly. 
"  If  you  really  feel  compassion,  you  will  not,  merely  from 
an  irritable  whim,  deprive  the  prisoners  of  the  only  com- 
fort that  can  be  afforded  them  in  their  cheerless  situation." 

"  Fraulein,"  said  Heinrich,  with  his  usual  winning 
courtesy,  "  you  certainly  do  very  little  to  bribe  the  govern- 
ment official ;  yet  this  very  course  wins  me  still  more, 
and  I  do  not  merely  permit,  I  entreat  you  to  return  and 
accept  me  as  your  assistant." 

"  So  long  as  you  are  with  the  prisoners,  sir,  they  will 
not  need  me.  Permit  me  to  come  here  at  a  time  when 
you  are  absent." 

7* 


78  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"You  have  become  suspicious  of  me;  we  are  farther 
apart  now  than  at  the  first  moment  of  meeting.  My 
candor  in  your  presence  was  over-hasty.  Forgive  me, 
and  mingle  a  little  of  your  kindness  of  heart  with  the 
austerity  of  your  youthful  ideas  of  virtue,  that  you  may 
not  utterly  condemn.  Will  you  ?  You  forgive,  and  try 
to  reform  even  criminals :  reform  me  too.  Why  are 
you  so  intolerant  to  me  alone?" 

She  gazed  at  him  with  gentle  earnestness,  and  slowly 
shook  her  head.  "  When  I  enter  a  prison,  I  know  I  shall 
find  a  criminal,  and  am  prepared  for  arguments  about 
sin  which  are  not  too  difficult  to  disprove.  But  with  you 
I  am  disappointed  and  embarrassed,  for  your  face  prom- 
ised something  better,  and  I  cannot  enter  into  your  deli- 
cate sophistry.  I  am  an  'enthusiast';  you  a  'servant 
of  the  government' :  the  two  characters  are  not  easily 
harmonized.  Farewell.  Allow  me  to  choose  the  time 
of  my  visits  here,  and  forgive  the  poor  jailers  whom  I 
have  outwitted."  With  these  words  she  hastily  ran  up 
the  stone  staircase. 

Heinrich  stamped  his  foot  angrily  on  the  floor.  "Will- 
ful, haughty  witch  !"  he  murmured,  as  he  hurried  after  her. 

She  paused  on  the  upper  step  and  nodded  to  him 
with  all  the  winning  charm  of  heartfelt  emotion.  "Be 
kind  to  my  prisoners,  Herr  von  Ottmar,  and  I  will  be  kind 
to  you  !"  Then,  turning  a  corner,  she  disappeared  before 
Heinrich  could  follow  her.  He  gazed  into  vacancy,  as 
if  be  wished  to  trace  in  the  air  the  shadow  into  which 
she  seemed  to  have  dissolved  before  his  eyes. 

The  jailers  timidly  approached  him  with  their  petition 
for  pardon.  "  You  shall  be  forgiven  for  the  sake  of  this 
lady's  eloquence,  which  is  difficult  to  resist.  But  on  pain 
of  losing  your  places  let  no  one  hear  of  what  has  taken 
place  to-day,  or  may  occur  in  future,"  said  Heinrich, 
sternly,  and  left  the  building. 

The  two  turnkeys  looked  at  each  other  a  long  time  in 
silence ;  at  last  one  said,  as  the  result  of  his  meditations, 
"  It's  the  Prison  Fairy !" 

Heinrich's  astonishment  was  raised  to  the  highest  pitch 
by  the  appearance  of  this  young  girl.  Even  the  thought 
of  the  strange  fatality  which  had  made  Severinus  the  in- 


THE  PRISON  FAIRY.  79 

nocent  victim  of  the  sensuality  he  had  denounced  so  bit- 
terly, a  few  weeks  before,  could  net  long  fix  his  attention. 
He  was  convinced  that  Severinus  had  discovered  to  what 
"  rose"  he  had  wished  to  open  his  doors,  and  had  gone  to 
Martin's  house  with  the  intention  of  obtaining  his  daugh- 
ter's confidence,  and  using  it  against  him.  "Poor  Sev- 
erinus!" said  he.  "  You  were  compelled  to  pay  dearly  for 
your  efforts  to  save  souls.  The  ghost  of  the  artist  whose 
Hebe  you  so  mercilessly  shattered  has  revenged  itself 
upon  you ;  but  the  innocent  tool  of  this  vengeance  was 
the  very  person  whom  you  had  most  deeply  injured, 
the  poor,  rejected  Albert !  Oh,  the  wonderful  justice  of 
fate  1" 

Then  he  returned  again  to  the  remarkable  apparition 
of  the  young  girl,  which  unceasingly  occupied  his  thoughts. 
She  had  such  a  peculiar,  changeful  temperament  that  she 
had  pleasantly  affected  every  chord  of  his  being.  A  deep 
earnestness  gleamed  through  the  naive  coquetry  by  which 
she  had  sought  to  bribe  him  to  favor  her  proteges.  ,  He 
perceived  that  hers  was  a  kindred  spirit,  that  she  too,  like 
himself,  was  under  the  influence  of  supernatural  powers, 
•but  in  her  childlike  soul  had  unconsciously  united  these 
forces  in  harmonious,  changeful  action,  instead  of,  like 
him,  being  their  sport. 

This  perception  awed  him.  He  felt  that  he  would  be 
understood  by  this  nature  if  he  showed  himself  openly  to 
her,  and  rejected  a  thousand  plans  to  discover  who  she 
was.  "  What  strength  is  it  that,  in  a  feeble  woman,  rules 
powers  which  have  crushed  and  conquered  me — a  man? 
Would  not  this  strength  exert  a  blissful  influence  over  me 
also  ?  With  what  joyous  pride  she  said,  '  I  am  making 
myself  useful.'  She  is  happy  in  the  thought,  and  wants 
nothing  more.  Is  it  possible  ?  Yet  it  must  be.  In  her 
character  lies  concealed  that  spirit  of  martyrdom  which 
dies  smiling  for  its  idea. 

"  There  is  something  strange  in  a  philanthropy  which 
rejoices  in  making  others  happy.  Hitherto  I  have  not 
desired  to  give  joy  to  any  one  except  myself!  Perhaps 
she  will  teach  me  her  art. 

"  She  joyously  collects  the  tears  of  her  dirty  criminals 
as  if  they  were  the  most  precious  pearls.  I  wear  on 


80  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

my  breast  the  jewels  of  various  orders, — and  yet  all  have 
never  given  me  so  much  pleasure  as  a  single  tear  causes 
her. 

"  Who  knows,  perhaps  I  have  not  yet  done  as  much  to 
earn  my  orders  as  she  was  compelled  to  do  to  win  her 
pearls  from  the  secret  depths  of  those  hardened  souls. 
Oh,  she  is  a  glorious  creature !  She  has  the  cleverness  of  a 
man,  and  yet  is  so  thoroughly  womanly.  She  proves  con- 
clusively that  woman  can  really  rise  above  her  narrow 
sphere  of  ideas  without  becommg  unwomanly,  and  that 
the  true  emancipation  of  the  mind  has  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  that  emancipation  from  principles  and  forms 
which  so  often  repels  us  in  those  termed  women  of  genius. 
Yes,  such  a  woman  would  be  capable  of  obtaining  an  in- 
fluence over  me. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  to  find  her  again  ?  First  of  all, 
I  will  do  what  she  desired,  I  will  confess  tht  truth  to  the 
prince  and  obtain  Albert's  pardon.  Noble  as  she  is  in 
thought  and  feeling,  she  will  be  touched  and  conciliated, 
— will  believe  in  me.  So,  when  occasion  offers,  I  am 
doing  a  good  deed  once  more.  The  prince  is  a  sensible 
man.  He  will  see  the  affair  in  its  true  light  and  not  re- 
fuse me  the  little  favor." 


VII. 

AN   ARISTOCRAT. 

Heinrich  went  to  the  palace  that  very  day  and  requested 
a  private  audience.  The  prince,  a  young  man  with  stern 
features  and  aristocratic  bearing,  received  him  in  bis 
study.  He  had  just  risen  from  his  writing-table,  which 
was  covered  with  a  pile  of  papers,  and  upon  his  lofty  brow 
still  rested  the  shadows  of  thought,  which  began  slowly 
to  disappear  at  the  sight  of  Ottmar.  The  large  blue  eyes 
seemed  wearied  with  toil,  and  gazed  earnestly  into  va- 
cancy, as  if  in  search  of  some  ideal  country  that  could  be 


AN  ARISTOCRAT.  81 

better  governed  than  his  own.  Long,  fair  whiskers 
framed  his  delicate  face.  His  youthful,  earnest  character 
confined  itself  rigidly  to  the  strict  forms  of  unapproacha- 
ble dignity.  Words  flowed  from  his  lips  as  purely,  readily, 
and  smoothly  as  a  cool  breeze,  and  any  one  who  saw  him 
for  the  first  time  would  be  chilled  by  the  frigid  reserve 
which  pervaded  his  whole  appearance.  He  was  the  very 
type  of  the  aristocrat  by  birth  and  education,  who  had 
polished  his  manners  into  an  impalpable  shield  against 
the  common  herd.  The  foundation  of  all  aristocratic  de- 
portment is  economy  of  time.  The  an'stocrat  husbands 
all  personal  exertion  as  far  as  possible.  He  chooses  the 
shortest,  most  indispensable  forms  of  speech,  limits  his 
voice  to  the  lowest  tone  that  can  be  heard,  and  his  gestures 
to  those  absolutely  unavoidable.  He  considers  this  a 
duty  towards  himself  and  others;  he  speaks  curtly  and 
rapidly,  because  he  is  always  in  a  hurry  himself  and  is  not 
sure  that  others  may  not  be  also ;  uses  a  low  tone,  because 
he  does  not  know  whether  it  will  be  agreeable  to  others 
to  hear  more  of  his  voice  than  may  be  necessary  to  com- 
prehend his  meaning ;  makes  few  or  no  gestures,  because 
he  does  not  wish  to  compel  the  eyes  of  others  to  follow 
aimless  courses  and  bendings.  In  intercourse  with  his 
superiors  or  equals,  modesty  forbids  him  to  intrude  more 
6*f  his  personal  character  than  is  indispensably  connected 
with  the  affair,  and  pride  withholds  him  from  revealing 
to  his  inferiors  anything  more  than  is  unavoidable.  Thus 
alone  the  aristocrat  acquires  the  self-control  and  delicacy 
that  distinguish  him.  Only  by  this  silent  accommoda- 
tion to  forms,  limited  to  the  lowest  minimum  of  personal 
exertion,  does  he  when  a  courtier  regain  the  time  of  which 
the  necessary  ceremonials  rob  him,  and  only  this  extreme 
indulgence  and  careful  use  of  his  physical  strength  gives 
him  the  endurance  demanded  by  the  exactions  of  court- 
life. 

The  young  prince  was  a  perfect  type  of  these  precepts. 
Whether  a  warm  or  cold  heart  throbbed  beneath  that 
smooth  exterior,  even  Heinrich,  his  confidant,  did  not 
venture  to  decide. 

"You  have  come  at   a  very  opportune  moment,  my 
dear  Ottmar,"  said  he.     "  I  was  about  to  send  for  you." 
D* 


82  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

Heinrich  bowed  low,  in  answer  to  this  greeting. 

"  See,  here  are  a  pile  of  papers  and  letters  which  I 
wish  to  share  with  you.  So  much  has  come  at  the  same 
time." 

"You  know,  my  prince,  that  you  have  no  more  de- 
voted servant  than  I.  Let  me  bear  a  part  of  your  bur- 
den," said  Heinrich,  in  his  most  persuasive  tones,  for  his 
power  of  imitating  the  expression  of  what  he  did  not 
possess  was  most  masterly. 

"  I  know  that  you  have  often  proved  it.  If  I  can  find 
truth  anywhere  it  is  in  you.  You  alone  are  impartial, 
and  see  clearly,  while  the  circle  of  vision  in  most  men  is 
limited  by  personal  interests  and  prejudices." 

"  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  have  my  prosperity  se- 
cured by  perfectly  independent  circumstances,  and  there- 
fore can  follow  my  convictions ;  but  this  falls  to  the  lot  of 
very  few.  Do  not  judge  them  too  harshly,  your  High- 
ness, for  the  majority  of  mankind  are  fettered  by  anxie- 
ties concerning  their  means  of  livelihood." 

"•It  may  be  so,  but  they  lack  the  essential  thing, — 
genius, — the  clear,  far-seeing  gaze  which  no  lessons  in 
state-craft  can  supply  ;  besides,  those  who  do  understand 
anything  rarely  possess  the  art  of  telling  the  truth  with- 
out wounding  others  or  becoming  brutal.  One  cannot 
well  have  any  dealings  with  such  people. 

"  There  is  the  new  press-law  again.  Good  Minister 

B once  took  it  into  his  head  to  carry  it  through. 

You  know  his  blunt  manner  of  urging  a  decision.  I  must 
confess  that  this  preliminary,  which  almost  entirely 
abolishes  the  right  of  censorship,  is  contrary  to  my  feel- 
ings and  conscience.  Shall  I  permit  every  revolutionary 
wretch  to  scatter  poison  among  my  thoughtless,  credulous 
people  ?  Ought  I  to  do  so,  as  a  prince,  whose  duty  it  is 
to  watch  over  the  nation  intrusted  to  his  care  as  a  father 
watches  his  children  ?" 

"  This  question  presents  only  two  different  points  of 
view,  your  Highness.  Do  you  prefer  to  win,  by  this  act 
of  clemency,  a  transient  gratitude  ?  or,  by  persistently  fol- 
lowing your  better  convictions,  obtain  lasting  satisfaction  ? 
If  the  former,  make  the  desired  concessions  ;  yet  consider 
that  this  first  favor  will  draw  an  immeasurable  number 


AN  ARISTOCRAT.  83 

of  consequences  in  its  train.  From  the  moment  this  new 
freedom  of  the  press  is  fairly  established,  you  will  regret 
having  undertaken  obligations  which  you  cannot  execute 
without  inaugurating  a  totally  different  regime.  Your 
Highness  knows  that  the  intoxication  of  freedom,  caused 
by  the  victorious  revolution,  has  penetrated  here  also,  and 
the  fire  now  and  then  still  glimmers  beneath  the  ashes. 
Will  you,  by  means  of  the  press,  permit  air  to  reach  the 
scarcely  suffocated  flames?" 

"  May  God  have  mercy  upon  my  poor  country !"  mur- 
mured the  prince,  under  his  breath. 

"  Must  not  a  moment  come  when  your  Highness's  duty 
will  compel  you  to  check  the  progress  of  this  seditious 
literature  ?  and  will  you  not  then  have  broken  your 
promise  and  forfeited  the  transient  gratitude  which  would 
be  paid  you?" 

"Very  true." 

"  Well,  what  withholds  your  Highness  from  following 
your  convictions,  which  you  have  already  so  often  tested, 
that  your  own  feelings  were  always  the  best  guides  ?" 

"  The  doubt  whether  I  can  silence  and  conciliate  the 
discontented  masses  in  a  way  that  will  be  beneficial  to 
them, — the  doubt  regarding  the  means  I  ought  to  em- 
ploy," said  the  prince,  thoughtfully,  rubbing  his  brow. 

"  But  surely  this  is  not  the  right  expedient,  your 
Highness.  'By  granting  the  freedom  of  the  press  you 
only  afford  discontented  people  an  opportunity  of  making 
their  useless  complaints  and  wishes  public,  and  thus 
making  them  still  more  persuaded  of  hardships,  while 
you  neither  can,  nor  desire  to,  remove  their  causes.  Will 
not  this  bring  you  into  a  thousand  conflicts  between  your 
heart  and  your  most  sacred  convictions  in  regard  to  popu- 
lar education  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  If  I  might  venture  to  give  your  Highness  my  humble 
counsel,  I  should  say  that  the  freedom  of  the  press  is  the 
last  thing  that  ought  to  be  granted  to  a  nation.  The 
people  must  first  be  contented  ;  then  they  may  be  allowed 
to  speak.  Pardon  my  frankness,  your  Highness ;  you 
know  I  am  always  truthful." 

"  That  is  the  very  quality  I  prize  in  you ;  but  since 


84  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

you  are  now  in  the  mood  to  express  your  opinions  even 
more  sincerely  than  usual,  I  should  also  like  to  hear  by 
what  means  you  propose  to  content  the  country." 

Heinrich  was  astonished  by  this  question.  He  per- 
ceived that  he  had  gone  incautiously  near  the  verge  of 
truth,  and  felt  he  must  return,  for  to-day  he  had  more 
cause  than  ever  to  desire  to  win  the  prince's  favor, 
while  strangely  enough  he  had  never  taken  less  pleasure 
in  deceit. 

"Your  Highness,"  he  said,  at  last,  "do  not  ask  me 
whether  your  subjects  are  contented,  for  you  must  your- 
self answer  the  question  with  a  '  no,'  without  being  able 
to  alter  the  state  of  affairs.  If  you  ask  whether  they 
are  prosperous,  I  may  be  permitted  to  reply  'yes.'  To 
make  a  nation  prosperous  is  within  the  power  of  princes  ; 
to  keep  them  contented  depends  upon  the  power  of  time. 
Your  country,  your  Highness,  is  prospering  admirably 
under  your  august  sceptre.  The  causes  of  discord  do 
not  come  from  within,  but  from  without.  They  do  not 
result  from  your  government,  but  from  the  tempest  of 
freedom  which  roars  from  foreign  frontiers.  When  this 
tempest  subsides  the  nation  will  once  more  perceive  its 
prosperity.  To  await  this  time  quietly  and  indulgently 
seems  to  me  the  only  counsel  a  conscientious  man  is  per- 
mitted to  lay  at  the  feet  of  your  Highness." 

"You  are  right,  Ottmar.  I  have  already  said  the  same 
thing  to  myself.  If  every  prince  had  a  friend  like  you 
("  Who  apparently  contradicts  him  while  telling  him  the 
very  thing  he  wants  to  hear,"  Heinrich  mentally  inter- 
posed), matters  would  not  proceed  so  far,"  said  the  sove- 
reign, extending  three  fingers  of  his  slender  hand  to 
Heinrich.  "I  shall  not  sign  the  press-law.  I  hope  my 
throne,  which  has  outlasted  the  storms  of  so  many  cen- 
turies, will  also  be  strong  enough  to  withstand  the  press- 
ure of  these  times.  If  I  perceived  that  these  innova- 
tions would  produce  happiness,  I  certainly  would  not 
withhold  them  from  my  country.  But  I  cannot.  Other 
nations  possibly  may  be  ripe  for  freedom  ;  my  people  are 
not.  The  men  called  'patriots'  may  say  what  they  like; 
their  intentions  are  doubtless  good,  but  they  wish  to 
raise  the  masses  to  a  position  of  which  they  are  not  and 


AN  ARISTOCRAT.  85 

never  will  be  worthy.  No  one  can  see  into  this  matter 
more  clearly  than  the  priests.  We  must  ask  them,  if  we 
wish  to  learn  to  know  the  people,  and  the  ideal  we  have 
imagined  will  soon  vanish.  If  freedom  can  be  given  to 
these  rough  natures,  it  is  emancipation  from  evil  by  the 
perception  of  good,  and  this  only  religion  and  her  repre- 
sentatives can  bestow.  Therefore,  my  dear  Ottmar,  I 
will  scorn  to  purchase  a  cheap  popularity  by  frivolous 
concessions,  and  content  myself  with  fulfilling  the  duties 
God  imposed  upon  me  with  the  holy  oil.  I  do  not  desire 
to  hold  the  highest  place,  I  only  wish  to  be  the  protector 
and  guide  of  the  nation  intrusted  to  my  care:  so,  as  you 
have  very  justly  observed,  away  with  all  inconsequent 
and  aimless  innovations  1" 

The  prince  carelessly  pushed  away  the  papers  and 
drew  out  several  letters.  "  Here  is  this  marriage  busi- 
ness again.  You  must  do  me  a  favor  which  no  one  else 
can  bestow.  I  have  the  privilege  of  choosing  between 
two  charming  princesses,  neither  of  whom  I  know,  as 
one  has  just  entered  society  and  the  other  resides  at  a 
court  I  have  never  visited.  You  are  prudent  and  skillful, 
— a  connoisseur  in  female  beauty  and  character  ;  you 
must  take  a  private  pleasure  trip,  and  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  one  of  the  ladies,  that  you  may  be  able  to  give 
me  exact  information  concerning  her,  and  thus  perhaps 
save  me  the  trouble  of  a  useless  journey  in  search  of  a 
wife.  But  more  of  this  hereafter.  I  see  you  wish  to 
tell  me  something,  and  have  been  indiscreet  in  delaying 
you  so  long." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  which  could  be  more  important 
than  listening  to  you,  my  prince.  However,  as  you  com- 
mand, I  must  obey;  besides,  the  matter  does  not  concern 
me,  but  an  unfortunate  man,  who  is  suffering  unjustly  for 
my  fault,  and  whom  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  aid.  Will  your 
Highness  graciously  condescend  to  permit  me  to  appeal 
from  the  prince  to  the  man,  to  make  a  confession  which 
not  the  prince,  but  the  man,  should  hear?" 

"  Speak  frankly." 

"Five  years  ago  a  certain  Albert  Preheim  was  sen- 
tenced to  ten  years'  imprisonment  in  irons  for  having 
committed  a  murderous  assault  upon  the  present  assistant 


86  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

and  former  prefect  of  the  Collegium  Germanicum,  who 
was  spending  a  few  days  in  H ." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  remember,"  interrupted  the  prince. 
"  The  man  defended  himself  by  the  incredible  statement 
that  he  bad  mistaken  him  for  a  rival,  but  could  prove 
nothing  and  was  sentenced." 

"Well,  your  Highness,  the  man  is  too  severely  pun- 
ished. He  is  no  murderer,  and  his  statements  are  true. 
He  acted  without  premeditation,  when  almost  unac- 
countable for  his  deeds  and  under  the  impulse  of  the 
blindest  jealousy.  The  act  he  committed  concerns  me, 
since  he  had  reason  to  believe  me  the  seducer  of  his 
betrothed  bride." 

The  prince  drew  his  breath  through  his  shut  teeth  like 
a  person  whose  sensitive  feelings  have  been  rudely  jarred, 
and  made  no  reply.  Heinrich  noticed  it  and  possessed 
sufficient  tact  to  represent  the  whole  affair  as  if  he  had 
himself  been  the  victim  of  accident.  The  nocturnal  visit 
he  had  induced  the  young  girl  to  make  be  prudently 
omitted,  and  ascribed  everything  else  to  the  simplicity  of 
an  inexperienced  maiden,  who,  in  the  agony  roused  by 
the  stings  of  conscience,  had  represented  the  matter  to 
her  deceived  lover  in  a  very  vague  and  exaggerated 
manner.  In  this  case,  as  usual,  he  succeeded  in  con- 
vincing the  prince. 

"  Make  no  further  apologies  about  so  natural  an  indis- 
cretion-," said  he.  "  True,  I  confess  that,  for  my  own 
part,  I  cannot  understand  how  the  most  tempting  oppor- 
tunity can  ever  obtain  the  mastery  over  the  will.  As  a 
prince,  everything  is  at  my  command,  but  my  wishes 
have  'never  led  me  to  the  pleasures  of  mere  sensuality ; 
still,  I  judge  no  man  who  thinks  and  feels  differently  in 
regard  to  these  matters. — you  least  of  all ;  therefore  do 
not  consider  it  any  token  of  disfavor  if  I  am  compelled 
to  request  you  to  make  amends  for  your  error,  for  such  it 
is,  yourself.  Unfortunately,  I  am  unable  to  be  of  any 
assistance  to  you." 

"  Your  Highness  !"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  in  astonish- 
ment, "  will  you  not  pardon  the  unfortunate  man  ?" 

"  You  ask  a  pardon  for  Severinus's  would-be  murderer. 
I  cannot  believe  that  you  have  maturelv  considered  this 


AN  ARISTOCRAT.  87 

matter.  Severinus  still  suffers  from  the  effects  of  that 
dangerous  wound,  and  ought  I  to  release  the  man  who 
dealt  it  ?  Severinus  is  the  soul  of  the  whole  reverend 
order  of  Jesuits.  He  has  relations  with  the  leading 
ecclesiastics  in  my  domains.  The  order,  nay,  even  the 
whole  church,  was  greatly  agitated  by  this  unprecedented 
crime,  whose  punishment  my  confessor  thought  far  too 
light,  and  now,  after  five  years,  I  am  to  perform  a  most 
unusual  act  of  clemency.  Tell  me  yourself,  how  would 
it  be  received?  how  would  it  be  looked  upon  by  the 
whole  priesthood,  which  was  then  deeply  offended  be- 
cause I  would  not  make  the  criminal  a  terrible  example? 
If  you  so  firmly  believe  the  man's  deposition,  leave  the 
matter  to  the  regular  course  of  the  law;  then  he  will  not 
need  my  pardon." 

"I  thought,  your  Highness,  in  consideration  of  the 
certainty  that  the  unhappy  man  did  not  wish  to  kill 
Severinus " 

"  That  is  all  very  fine,  my  dear  fellow,"  interrupted  the 
prince,  with  somewhat  more  animation  than  usual ;  "  but 
who  knows  it?  And  if  I  should  bring  it  forward  as  the 
cause  of  my  clemency,  who  will  believe  it?  Can  I  prove 
that  my  private  opinion  is  the  correct  one,  and  a  sufficient 
cause  for  remitting  a  punishment  universally  considered 
to  be  well  merited?  My  individual  opinion  ought  not 
voluntarily  to  take  sides  with  Severinus's  assailant,  and 
decide  a  matter  so  complicated.  Only  the  calm,  unani- 
mous judgment  of  a  court  of  justice  can  determine  the 
true  meaning  of  the  act,  and  free  him  by  the  power  of 
the  law.  If  you  are  convinced  of  the  truth  of  your 
assertion,  you  will  certainly  succeed  in  persuading  the 
court  to  believe  it,  and  you  doubtless  feel  that  the  duty 
of  bearing  the  punishment  for  your  error  rests  with  you 
rather  than  me." 

The  prince  said  all  this  in  .a  low,  rapid  tone,  with  a 
most  friendly  smile,  yet  every  word  fell  upon  Heinrich's 
soul  like  a  blow.  He  clinched  his  teeth  even  while  he 
smiled,  mentally  called  the  prince  a  smooth,  cold  egotist, 
and  was  convinced  that  he  was  a  martyr  of  self-sacrifice 
in  comparison  with  this  man.  When  two  egotists  meet, 
each,  with  mournful  self-satisfaction,  considers  himself 


88  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

the  victim  of  the  other.  This  was  the  case  with  the 
prince,  who  also  reflected  upon  the  selfishness  of  Hein- 
rich's  expectations,  and  thought  himself  very  noble  be- 
cause he  forgave  him. 

"  Your  Highness,  "  said  Heinrich,  with  the  frankness 
which  was  his  most  dangerous  mask,  "  if  I  avoided  adopt- 
ing the  means  you  mentioned,  it  was  because  as  a  member 
of  the  court  and  council  of  state  I  dared  not  venture  to 
compromise  myself  by  any  public  transactions  in  regard 
to  this  delicate  matter.  I  thought  I  was  obliged  to  honor 
your  Highness's  servant  in  myself  as  well  as  in  any  one 
else.  I  did  not  suppose  that  a  powerful  prince  like  my 
most  gracious  ruler  need  fear  the  anger  of  the  priesthood 
for  performing  such  a  truly  Christian  deed,  and  therefore 
most  humbly  beg  pardon  for  my  indiscreet  petition." 

"You  know  you  are  indispensable  to  me,  Ottmar,  and 
can  ask  a  great  deal ;  but,  even  though  you  may  feel  an- 
gered, I  cannot  grant  this  request.  Even  if,  as  you  ap- 
parently wished  to  intimate  just  now,  I  need  not  fear  the 
anger  of  the  priests,  I  will  noc  rouse  it  uselessly.  If  I 
am  the  head,  the  priesthood  is  the  heart  of  my  body  poli- 
tic ;  shall  I  wound  it  if  it  can  be  avoided?  Of  course, 
something  must  be  done  for  the  poor  man  ;  but  if  one  of 
us  is  to  make  a  sacrifice  for  him,  it  is  surely  better  and 
more  natural  for  you  to  do  it  than  for  me.  Give  the  in- 
formation therefore,  and  after  his  release  J  will  grant  him 
every  favor  you  may  ask." 

"  So  your  Highness  really  commands  the  affair  to  be 
made  public?" 

"  Say  yourself.  Will  it  not  become  so  under  any  circum- 
stances? You  know  that  I  could  only  pardon  Albert 
Preheim  by  convincing  all  as  well  as  myself  that  he  was 
not  guilty  of  the  murderous  assault  upon  Severinus.  To 
attain  this  object  should  I  not  be  compelled  to  reveal  your 
acts,  first  to  the  priests,  and  afterwards,  for  their  satisfac- 
tion, to  the  public?  You  would  then  be  quite  as  much 
exposed  as  if  you  appeared  before  a  court  of  justice,  and 
much  more  harshly  judged  than  if  you  atoned  for  your 
indiscretion  by  a  frank  confession  in  favor  of  Preheim." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Heinrich,  bitterly. 

"Although  the  affair  will  then  attract  attention,  which 


AN  ARISTOCRAT.  89 

will  be  as  disagreeable  to  me  as  to  you,  it  will  in  any 
event  be  forgotten  in  the  course  of  a  few  months.  You 
must  take  the  journey  which  I  just  mentioned  to  you  at 
once, — and  when  you  return  no  one  will  give  it  another 
thought." 

"  So,  your  Highness,  it  is  your  wish  that  a  man  whom 
you  openly  honor  with  your  confidence,  who  has  a  voice 
in  the  council,  and  with  whom  you  deign  to  share  your 
cares  concerning  the  weal  and  woe  of  the  state,  should 
appear  before  a  court  of  justice  and  a  curious  public  to 
make  confession  of  his  youthful  errors  ?" 

"Oh,"  said  the  prince,  "I  leave  it  entirely  to  your 
conscience  to  decide  whether  you  do  not  consider  a  man 
whom  you  thought  worthy  of  my  protection  sufficiently 
deserving  for  you  to  perform  an  act  of  magnanimity  in 
his  behalf.  If  you  are  perfectly  satisfied  that  he  is  too 
severely  punished,  I  know  your  sense  of  honor  well 
enough  to  be  sure  that  you  will  act  for  him.  If  you  are 
not,  you  need  not  expose  yourself  for  him  any  more  than 
you  will  ask  me  to  grant  his  pardon.  Give  this  matter 
careful  consideration ;  I  hope  you  will  not  force  upon  me 
the  alternative  of  making  an  innocent  man  suffer  unjustly, 
or  offending  those  members  of  my  state  whom  I  esteem 
most  highly."  He  looked  at  his  watch.  "  It  is  eight 
o'clock  :  I  must  dress.  Shall  I  see  you  this  evening  at  the 
princess  mother's?" 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  your  Highness." 

"A  pity  that  it  is  so  small  a  company.  I  can  have  no 
further  conversation  with  you  about  that  affair  of  the 
marriage  to-day." 

"  I  deeply  regret  that  I  have  not  better  employed  the 
precious  moments  your  Highness  condescended  to  be- 
stow." 

"  Well,  au  revoir,"  said  the  prince,  rising,  and  dismiss- 
ing Heinrich  with  a  gracious  wave  of  the  hand. 

Heinrich  had  required  all  his  self-control  to  avoid 
making  several  subtle  rejoinders  that  hovered  on  his 
tongue.  He  was  furiously  enraged  by  the  failure  of  his 
plan  and  the  prince's  terror  of  the  priesthood,  as  he 
called  it.  He  perceived  that  the  young,  strictly  religious 
man  was  right  from  his  point  of  view,  but  rejected  his 

8* 


90  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

whole  standard  of  measurement  with  indescribably  bitter 

irony.  For  the  first  time  since  he  had  lived  in  N 

this  trait  in  the  prince's  character  had  become  personally 
detrimental,  and  he  felt  anew  the  full  severity  of  the  fate 
which  had  forced  him  to  bend  to  this  hated  system. 

His  longing  to  win  the  Prison  Fairy  and  his  sense  of 
right  struggled  violently  with  his  pride.  Should  he  give 
up  the  whole  affair  now?  Could  he  rest  satisfied  with  a 
single,  useless  effort,  without  being  ashamed  of  himself, 
lowered  in  the  eyes  of  the  prince,  and,  above  all,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Prison  Fairy  ?  Must  not  her  pure,  noble 
soul  withdraw  from  him  forever,  after  she  had  obtained 
this  glimpse  of  his  nature?  Was  she  not  the  only  joy 
for  which  he  hoped  in  his  cheerless  life,  and  was  he  to 
lose  it  just  as  he  had  found  it? 

Then  he  asked  himself  whether  she  was  really  what 
she  seemed,  whether  she  deserved  the  sacrifice  he  was 
making  for  her  sake.  With  deep  loathing  he  saw  himself 
standing  before  the  court,  in  the  presence  of  the  malicious 
public;  his  pride  struggled  against  the  thought  with  all 
its  power,  and  amid  these  painful  considerations  Henri 
even  allowed  himself  to  be  influenced  by  the  fear  that, 
after  the  confession  of  his  error,  the  ladies  of  the  court 
would  be  implacably  lost  to  him.  Would  the  Prison  Fairy 
outweigh  all  this  to  Heinrich  as  well  as  Henri?  Would 
a  smile  from  her  have  power  to  compensate  Heinrich  for 
the  sneering  laugh  on  the  faces  which  had  hitherto  shown 
only  fawning  affability  ?  Was  her  esteem  more  than  the 
admiration  of  the  court,  which  would  now  have  nothing 
for  him  save  the  scornful  shrug  of  the  shoulders? 

While  Henri  was  charming  the  ladies  at  the  court 
soiree  by  his  shallow  gallantries,  these  considerations 
ceaselessly  occupied  HeinricWs  thoughts,  and  he  resolved, 
cost  what  it  might,  to  see  the  Prison  Fairy  again  on  the 
following  day. 


IN  THE  PRISON.  91 

/ 

VIII. 

IN   THE  PRISON. 

Heinrich  excused  himself  from  the  evening  gathering 
on  the  plea  of  illness,  and  went  to  the  prison.  Here 
he  ordered  Albert  to  be  removed  to  another,  as  he 
asserted,  healthier  cell,  and  remained  in  his  stead  in  the 
narrow,  gloomy  dungeon,  which,  according  to  his  opinion, 
the  young  girl  would  doubtless  visit  first.  He  also  gave 
the  most  positive  orders  that  nothing  should  be  said  to 
her  about  his  presence  or  the  change  that  had  been  made 
in  Albert's  cell,  and  thus  hoped  that  she  could  not  escape 
him.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  was  listening 
in  the  greatest  suspense  to  every  step  that  approached 
his  door.  All  passed  by.  His  expectation  increased  to 
impatience, — his  impatience  to  longing.  He,  who  was 
accustomed  to  command,  to  whom  all  hastened,  sat  in  a 
lonely  cell  like  a  poor  criminal,  and  was  forced  to  wait 
patiently  until  the  moment  of  deliverance  approached. 
He,  who  had  so  often  been  ardently  expected  behind 
silken  curtains  and  flowers,  now  gazed  through  the  iron 
bars  of  a  little  grated  window  at  a  tiny  patch  of  sky,  as 
if  imploring  that  he  might  be  granted  what  he  desired. 
He  had  not  even  thought  of  taking  a  book  with  him,  and 
the  most  terrible  ennui  was  added  to  the  monotony  of  the 
one  thought  that  occupied  his  mind.  The  clocks  in  the 
various  gteeples  struck  the  quarter  and  half  hours;  to 
count  the  near  and  distant  strokes  was  the  sole  inter- 
ruption of  his  dull  reverie.  And  he  had  submitted  to  all 
this  Jor  the  sake  of  a  coy  young  girl,  a  stranger  to 
him,  though  he  did  not  even  know  who  and  what  she 
was,  or  what  she  could  ever  be  to  him  !  He  voluntarily 
put  himself  in  the  place  of  the  prisoners,  especially 
that  of  Albert,  who  had  probably  listened  with  a  beating 
heart  for  days  to  hear  if  she  were  coming, — she,  the  only 
thing  he  still  possessed  in  the  eternal  monotony  of  his 
imprisonment.  His  excited  fancy  pictured  more  and 


92  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

more  vividly  how  the  prisoner  must  live,  year  after  year, 
exposed  to  the  most  terrible  ennui,  with  only  the  sight 
of  bis  four  bare  walls  and  his  gnawing  thoughts;  how 
the  only  signs  of  human  life  that  could  reach  him  were 
a  dull  roar  and  the  sound  of  the  bells,  and  the  only 
change  in  his  slowly  dragging  days  the  transition  from 
light  to  darkness.  "  I  can  open  this  door  when  I  choose, 
— can  go  out  when  I  please  ;  only  the  necessity  of  grati- 
fying an  idle  whim  detains  me;  and  yet  the  thought  of 
being  compelled  to  spend  twenty-four  hours  here  chills 
my  breast,  to  say  nothing  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  and  nights,  and  Jive  times, — ten  times  as  many!" 
He  drew  a  long  breath,  and,  merely  to  employ  his 
thoughts,  began  to  calculate  with  nervous  eagerness  how 
many  hours  this  would  be.  How  often  Albert  must 
already  have  reckoned  it !  What  does  such  a  man  think 
during  the  long  years  ?  The  soul  needs  nourishment  as 
well  as  the  body.  Albert  would  doubtless  have  become 
imbecile  had  it  not  been  for  the  Prison  Fairy.  She  is 
the  one  thought  that  keeps  his  soul  awake.  The  clock- 
struck  eleven.  "  I  have  been  waiting  three  hours  al- 
ready. Suppose  she  should  not  come?  What  must  it 
be  to  the  prisoner,  when  she  remains  away  all  day,  and 
he  has  waited  through  the  twenty-four  hours  in  vain  !" 

Worn  out  by  involuntary  idleness,  he  sinks  upon  his 
couch  at  night,  looks  up  to  the  little  window,  and  watches 
for  the  thousandth  time  the  motions  of  the  clouds  and  the 
gathering  darkness;  perhaps  even  greets  a  twinkling  star 
as  a  joyful  event,  compares  it  to  the  eyes  of  the  Prison 
Fairy,  and  wonders  why  she  did  not  come  to-day,  and 
whether  she  will  come  to-morrow,  until  he  falls  into  his 
feverish  slumber.  He  wakes  early  in  the  morning  long- 
ing for  her,  would  gladly  hasten  the  hours  with  his  pant- 
ing breath,  urge  on  the  strokes  of  the  clocks  by  the  pulsa- 
tions of  his  heart,  and  yet  he  has  no  resource  but  patience, 
— continual  patience.  His  soul  rises  and  falls  between 
fear  and  hope,  his  head  burns,  his  limbs  ache  under  the 
pressure  of  his  chains.  The  sun  sends  its  wandering 
rays  into  the  cell  and  shines  upon  the  door ;  suddenly  it 
springs  open,  and,  as  if  allured  by  the  rays,  bathed  in 
the  splendor,  the  beautiful  figure  stands  in  the  entrance 


IN   THE  PRISON.  93 

in  all  the  brightness  of  her  living,  loving  presence, 
greeted  by  a  cry  of  joy  as  piercing  as  I  heard  yesterday 
from  Albert's  lips.  "  Prison  Fairy  !"  She  approaches 
him  ;  she  touches  the  fetters  with  her  flower-white  hands, 
and  they  become  light;  her  breath  cools  his  feverish 
brow;  she  speaks  to  him  in  a  tone  thrilling  with  the 
melody  of  enthusiastic  feeling ;  she  looks  at  him  with  her 
mysterious  eyes,  and  on  her  brow  is  throned  that  dignity 
which  no  bold  desire,  no  injustice,  dare  approach. 

Oh,  how  longingly  he  must  await  such  consolation ! 
how  he  must 

The  door  opened :  a  female  figure  was  about  to  enter; 
he  turned,  and  the  painful  suspense  escaped  in  a  shrill 
exclamation, — "  Prison  Fairy  I"  The  door  was  closed, 
and  light  footsteps  rapidly  retreated.  As  in  a  dream  we 
often  vainly  strive  to  reach  something  with  trembling 
haste,  the  width  of  the  little  space  he  must  pass  to  pursue 
the  fugitive  seemed  far  too  great  for  Ottmar.  His  hands 
trembled  so  violently  in  his  hurry  that  he  opened  the 
heavy  old  lock  with  difficulty,  and  when  he  emerged  she 
had  disappeared. 

"Where  is  she?"  he  asked  of  a  jailer  who  was  just 
coming  up  the  passage. 

"  Does  your  lordship  mean  the  Prison  Fairy?  I  have 
not  seen  her  to-day." 

"  That  is  a  lie !    She  was  here  just  now." 

"  Yes,  your  lordship,  it  may  be  so ;  she  always  bids 
the  Herr  Inspector  good-morning  before  she  goes  to  the 
prisoners." 

"Call  the  inspector  here,"  said  Heinrich,  returning  to 
the  cell. 

The  official,  an  elderly  man,  with  honest  features, 
obeyed  the  summons. 

"Herr  Inspector,"  said  Heinrich,  sternly,  "you  have 
for  several  years  allowed  a  lady  secret  access  to  the 
prisoners." 

"Yes,  Herr  Geheimratb,"  said  the  man,  with  dignified 
composure. 

"  Have  you  ever  received  permission  to  do  so  from  any 
higher  authority  ?" 

"  No,  Herr  Geheimrath." 


94  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"And  yet  you  have  exceeded  the  limits  of  your  in- 
structions ?" 

"I  must  bear  the  punishment  patiently." 

"  Are  you  so  courageous  ?" 

"  Herr  Geheimrath,"  said  the  old  man,  modestly,  "  I 
have  doue  what  my  own  heart  dictated,  and  was  aware 
that  in  following  my  convictions  of  Christian  duty  I  was 
violating  only  the  letter,  not  the  spirit,  of  my  office." 

"A  prison  official,  and  possessed  of  a  heart!  The  two 
do  not  harmonize,  Herr  Inspector." 

"Pardon  me,  I  did  not  know  it.  I  cherish  the  belief 
that  our  wise  government  desires  to  have  the  criminal 
justly  not  cruelly  treated ;  and  to  serve  the  arm  of  justice 
is  an  office  which  a  man  who  has  a  heart  can  hold, 
although  it  sometimes  falls  heavily  upon  it." 

"These  are  the  subtle  reasonings  of  the  Prison  Fairy, 
as  she  is  called  here.  Yet  I  am  disposed  to  pass  over 
the  affair  if  you  will  instantly  tell  me  the  lady's  name, 
social  position,  and  residence.'* 

"  Herr  Geheimrath,"  said  the  inspector,  smiling,  "  I 
think  if  my  offense  deserves  pardon  you  will  be  sufficiently 
just  to  grant  it  without  conditions,  for  I  cannot  possibly 
fulfill  those  you  have  just  mentioned." 

"  Herr  Inspector  !" 

"  Herr  Geheimrath,  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that 
I  do  not  know  who  the  lady  is,  nor  where  she  lives." 

"  I  must  believe  you ;  but  in  that  case  your  course  is  all 
the  more  inexplicable." 

"  I  see,  Herr  Geheimrath,  that  I  owe  you  a  detailed 
account  of  the  matter,  and  am  ready  to  confirm  each  of 
my  statements  upon  oath." 

"  Well?"  said  Heinrich,  with  ill-repressed  curiosity. 

"  When,  five  years  ago,  the  jail  was  filled  with  political 
prisoners,  a  young  man  named  Reinhold  was  brought 
in  who  excited  my  compassion  in  the  highest  degree. 
He  had  taken  part  in  the  conflicts  in  the  Province  of 

B ,  but  seemed  so  feeble  and  gentle  that  I  could  not 

understand  how  he  had  been  concerned  in  such  deeds. 
He  was  sentenced  to  death,  but  the  prince  commuted  the 
decree  to  an  imprisonment  of  twenty  years.  His  win- 
ning, lovable  character  aroused  the  sympathy  of  all  who 


IN  THE  PRISON.  95 

saw  him.  Day  by  day  the  unfortunate  man  grew  paler  and 
more  feeble ;  but  he  said  nothing.  No  one  heard  a  word 
of  complaint  from  his  lips,  and  he  always  had  the  same 
gentle  smile  for  all  who  entered  his  cell.  Even  the  jailers 
pitied  this  quietly  endured,  silent  suffering,  and  remarked 
to  each  other  that  the  prisoner  seemed  ill.  I  went  to 
him,  and  urgently  pressed  him  to  tell  me  what  was  the 
matter.  He  thanked  me  and  protested  that  he  was  quite 
well ;  his  heart  was  heavy,  but  no  one  could  help  him 
there  except  the  one  whose  coldness  had  made  him  rush 
into  his  crime  and  misfortune,  and  whom  he  must  love 
till  the  day  of  his  death.  I  did  not  wish  to  press  him 
with  any  further  questions,  because  the  recollection  seemed 
to  exhaust  him.  One  day  the  young  lady  of  whom  we 
are  speaking  came  to  me  and  implored  me  through  her 
tears  to  procure  her  an  interview  with  the  prisoner,  Rein- 
hold.  I  refused.  The  next  day  she  <came  again,  as  she 
said,  to  inquire  after  the  prisoner's  health,  and  begged 
me  to  allow  her  to  do  so  daily.  This,  of  course,  I  could 
not  deny  her.  She  appeared  in  my  little  room  regularly 
every  afternoon  at  a  certain  hour,  and  I  must  confess 
that  the  young  girl  soon  became  as  dear  to  me  as  if  she 
had  been  my  own  child.  She  did  not  tell  me  who  she 
was,  but  her  whole  conduct  showed  that  she  must  belong 
to  a  good  family,  and  be  perfectly  pure  in  heart ;  besides, 
I  was  too  modest  to  ask  what  she  did  not  tell  me  of  her 
own  free  will.  One  day  I  could  give  her  no  good  news 
about  the  prisoner's  health.  His  weakness  had  greatly 
increased.  She  received  my  communication  with  so  much 
sorrow  that  I  could  no  longer  doubt  some  close  tie  bound 
her  to  Reinhold,  and  that  she  was  the  very  person  for 
whom  he  was  grieving  so  bitterly.  She  clasped  my 
hands  in  agony  and  implored  me  only  to  let  her  look  at 
him  a  moment  through  the  open  door  of  his  cell.  I  could 
not  refuse  the  poor  child  this.  I  led  her  to  .the  spot, 
went  to  the  prisoner,  and  left  the  door  slightly  ajar,  that 
she,  concealed  behind  it,  might  look  in.  But  who  can 
depend  upon  the  unruly  heart  of  seventeen?  Scarcely 
had  I  addressed  two  words  to  Reinbold  when  she  rushed 
in,  and,  with  a  cry  of  agony,  threw  herself  upon  his  breast. 
Neither  could  speak,  and  my  own  tears  flowed  freely. 


96  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

The  unhappy  man  was  so  weak  that  he  could  not  endure 
this  tempest  of  joy,  but  fell  from  her  arms  pale  and  life- 
less. She  sank  on  the  floor  beside  him  and  silently  took 
his  head  in  her  lap.  There  she  sat  as  if  the  Virgin  had 
appeared  in  bodily  form  with  the  dead  Christ.  Herr 
Geheimrath,  no  one  worthy  of  the  name  of  man  could 
have  separated  them ;  it  would  have  seemed  to  me  like 
sacrilege  !" 

"  Go  on,"  said  Heinrich,  in  the  greatest  suspense. 

"  When  Reinhold  had  partially  recovered,  a  touching 
scene  ensued, — a  scene  which  may  be  felt  but  not  described. 
They  had  never  spoken  to  each  other  before;  she  did  not 
even  seem  to  have  returned  his  affection,  and  implored  his 
forgiveness  for  her  want  of  love  which  had  driven  him  out 
into  the  world  to  his  ruin.  But  she  would  make  amends. 
She  called  me  to  witness  that  she  solemnly  betrothed 
herself  to  him,  and-  implored  me  in  the  name  of  the  God 
before  whom  I  should  one  day  have  to  stand  in  the  great 
and  final  account,  to  give  her  once  for  all  free  admittance 
to  her  betrothed  husband's  cell.  I  perceived  how  she 
had  outwitted  me  by  so  completely  captivating  me  during 
her  daily  visits,  that  I  could  no  longer  refuse  her  any- 
thing. I  was  convinced  that  the  prisoner  had  in  her  one 
who  would  faithfully  care  for  his  soul,  for  she  is  pure 
and  gentle  as  a  child,  wise  and  firm  as  a  man.  So  I 
granted  her  desire,  and  up  to  this  moment  have  never  re- 
pented it;  she  has  brought  a  better  spirit  into  the  institu- 
tion, and  exerts  a  remarkable  power  over  the  prisoners." 

"And  the  betrothed  bridegroom?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"  She  thought  she  could  still  save  him  by  her  affection, 
and  nursed  him  with  admirable  tenderness.  He  was 
happy ;  but  even  as  grief  had  onoe  threatened  to  destroy 
him,  so  it  was  now  with  love, — he  slowly  languished. 

"After  a  time  she  perceived  it  and  attributed  it  to 
prison  life.  She  found  that  the  greatest  suffering  a  man 
can  feel  is  loss  of  freedom,  bore  in  her  heart  the  deepest 
compassion,  not  only  for  him  but  his  companions  in  mis- 
fortune, and  several  times  assured  me  that  if  she  did  not 
need  all  her  time  for  Reinhold  she  would  gladly  visit 
the  other  prisoners,  but  she  did  not  wish  to  deprive  him 
of  a  moment." 


IN  THE  PRISON.  9f 

"Just  then  apolitical  criminal  who  had  been  sentenced 
to  fifteen  years'  imprisonment  was  brought  in,  so  infuriated 
by  his  fate  that  he  tore  at  his  chains  with  his  teeth,  and 
tried  to  dash  out  his  brains  against  the  heavy  irons  like 
Caius  Ccelius,  as  he  said  ;  in  short,  he  behaved  like  a  mad- 
man. No  one  could  obtain  any  influence  over  him;  he 
cursed  all  who  approached  him  and  scoffed  at  the  priests. 
Then  I  thought  I  would  ask  the  Prison  Fairy — her  lover 
had  jestingly  called  her  so  because  she  forbade  him  to 
mention  her  real  name — if  she  would  not  try  to  bring  the 
lunatic  to  reason.  She  went  to  him  with  the  utmost 
readiness,  and  the  man  was  so  charmed  by  her  beauty 
and  courage  that  he  yielded  to  her  and  obeyed  her  with 
the  greatest  devotion.  If  he  ever  regain  freedom,  he  will 
owe  it  to  that  girl  that  be  is  not  lunatic  or  a  reprobate. 

"  Six  months  had  elapsed,  when  we  heard  a  cry  of  de- 
spair from  Reinhold's  cell ;  and  when  we  hurried  to  it,  found 
her  in  the  same  attitude  as  on  their  first  meeting, — kneel- 
ing on  the  floor  supporting  her  lover's  head  in  her  arms. 
But  this  time  he  was  not  to  wake  again, — he  was  dead, 
The  Prison  Fairy  wept  over  the  pallid  face  so  bitterly 
that  the  jailers  crept  noiselessly  out  of  the  cell,  that  they 
might  not  see  her  grief.  The  physician  attached  to  the 
prison  was  summoned ;  said  that  he  had  had  heart  disr 
ease,  and  perhaps  would  have  lived  no  longer  under  any 
circumstances.  We  talked  to  her  as  well  as  we  could  ; 
and  when  she  saw  how  deeply  her  sorrow  grieved  us,  she 
composed  herself  and  consoled  us.  But  when  the  prison 
door  opened  and  the  corpse  was  borne  out,  she  broke 
down,  and  shrieked,  'Poor  Reinhold,  now  you  are/ree/' 
The  tone  still  rings  in  my  ears ;  I  shall  never  forget  it  as 
long  as  I  live. 

"  When  we  were  alone  she  thanked  me  with  touching 
affection,  and  entreated  me  henceforth  to  grant  her  ad- 
mittance to  all  the  prisoners,  to  alleviate  the  mental  tor- 
tures, which  often  far  exceeded  the  crime  and  the  purpose 
of  the  punishment.  After  witnessing  her  success  with 
the  furious  Sebastian,  I  ccCuld  not  refuse  the  noble  and 
benevolent  wish  in  which  her  soul  sought  consolation  ; 
and  you  must  permit  me  to  believe,  Herr  Geheimrath, 
that  a  blessing  follows  her  wherever  she  goes." 
E  9 


98  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"But  does  she  seem  to  be  entirely  consoled  now?" 
asked  Heinrich. 

"For  two  years  she  mourned  deeply;  nay,  I  often 
watched  her  with  real  anxiety;  but  at  last  time  and  her 
healthful  nature  asserted  their  rights.  She  grew  stronger, 
gradually  became  calmer,  even  gay,  and  for  the  last  year 
has  been  the  same  vivacious  child  she  was  five  years  ago. 
Now  vou  know  all,  honored  sir,  and  can  judge  for  your- 
self."" 

Heinrich  gazed  into  vacancy  long  and  thoughtfully.  At 
last  he  said,  kindly,  "  Under  such  extraordinary  circum- 
stances people  must  of  course  make  exceptions.  You  are 
an  honest  man,  Herr  Inspector  1" 

"  I  thank  you,  Herr  Geheimrath  !" 

"But  now,  tell  me,  has  it  never  occurred  to  you  to  send 
some  one  after  this  strange  girl,  to  see  what  direction  she 
takes?" 

"  She  always  went  to  the  stand  of  hackney-coaches 
and  drove  away  in  one  of  them.  There  is  a  consistency 
in  everything  she  does,  which  would  sometimes  terrify 
one  if  he  had  not  learned  to  know  her  kind  heart." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  report.  Farewell,  Herr  Inspec- 
tor." Heinrich  took  his  hat  and  went  out. 

"Albert  must  be  free!  the  Prison  Fairy  must  become 
mine  1"  said  he,  as  he  left  the  prison. 


IX. 

FRATJLEIN    VERONICA    VON   ALBIN. 

THUS  his  resolution  was  at  last  formed.  He  perceived 
that  Albert's  liberation  was  the  only  price  with  which  he 
could  again  purchase  the  confidence  of  the  obstinate  girl. 
The  impressions  he  had  received  during  his  voluntary 
confinement  in  the  cell  convinced  him  of  the  unwarrant- 
able cruelty  he  should  commit  if  he  allowed  poor  Albert 
to  suffer  unjustly  any  longer.  The  useless  hours  of  wait- 
ing for  the  Prison  Fairy  had  increased  his  interest  in  her 


FRAULEIN    VERONICA    VON  ALBIN.  99 

to  a  longing,  and  the  inspector's  story  gave  him  the  assur- 
ance that  she  was  worthy  of  a  sacrifice.  The  simple  ex- 
perience of  this  afternoon  had  destroyed  the  web  of 
doubt  that  overpowered  him.  He  intended  to  treat  the 
whole  affair  with  the  ease  of  a  man  of  the  world,  and  dis- 
arm the  malicious  public  by  a  display  of  amiable  quali- 
ties which  no  one  could  resist,  and  which  must  of  course 
wiu  the  heart  of  the  Prison  Fairy.  He  was  conscious  of 
the  power  of  his  personal  attractions,  and,  after  he  be- 
came accustomed  to  the  thought  of  a  public  examination, 
took  pleasure  in  the  idea  of  making  all  his  advantages 
sparkle  in  the  light  of  her  delighted  glances.  Since  there 
vwas  no  other  way  of  gaining  possession  of  her,  he  ordered 
the  investigation  of  Albert  Preheim's  murderous  assault 
to  be  once  more  taken  up  by  the  courts. 

A  week  passed  away  before  the  matter  was  publicly 
discussed,  and  during  this  time  Heinrich  and  Henri  pur- 
sued but  one  object :  to  find  the  Prison  Fairy.  But  all 
plans  were  set  at  naught  by  the  cunning  obstinacy  with 
which  she  eluded  him.  Ottmar  went  daily  to  the  jail 
and  showed  the  prisoners  every  conceivable  kindness, 
but  none  of  them  could  tell  him  anything  more  than  that 
she  had  not  come  of  late.  The  poor  men  were  almost  in 
despair, — it  was  the  first  time  for  five  years  that  she  had 
remained  away  so  long.  No  one  could  explain  the 
cause.  Heinrich  knew  it  and  wondered  at  her  firmness, — 
it  could  not  be  indifference  that  made  her  avoid  him  so 
anxiously ;  and  this  thought  goaded  his  impatience  to  its 
height. 

The  day  of  the  examination  came.  Upon  this  all  his 
hopes  were  fixed.  The  galleries  of  the  hall  were  crowded. 
Ottmar,  the  haughty,  dreaded  aristocrat,  enters  the  lists  to 
defend  a  poor,  persecuted  plebeian,  and  confesses  his  own 
error  to  prove  the  innocence  of  his  protege.  This  was 
the  rumor  that  ran  through  the  whole  city.  Every  one 
wanted  to  see  it  for  himself  before  he  believed  it;  and  in- 
stead of  the  malicious  public  he  had  expected,  appeared  a 
joyful  throng,  already  half  conciliated.  A  crowd  of 
ladies  of  all  ranks  and  ages  had  also  assembled  to  see  the 
famous  Ottmar  in  the  role  of  a  penitent  sinner.  It  is 
characteristic  that  women  in  general  will  not  pardon  the 


100  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

smallest  error  if  it  is  concealed,  while?-  on  the  contrary, 
they  will  forgive  the  greatest  sin  if  an  appeal  is  made  to 
their  generosity  by  a  frank  confession.  Heinrich  hoped 
to  find  this  experience  confirmed  by  the  Prison  Fairy, 
and  was  persuaded  that  his  conduct  on  this  occasion 
would  completely  subdue  her  defiance.  The  examination 
began.  All  eyes  were  fixed  compassionately  upon  the 
pallid  Albert,  broken  down  in  the  flower  of  his  years,  as 
he  entered  the  court-room  with  tottering  steps,  supported 
between  two  gendarmes. 

The  presiding  officer  opened  the  proceedings  by  a  short 
history  of  the  case,  the  statements  of  the  absent  Sever- 
inus  were  read  aloud,  and  passed  on  for  the  assent  of  the 
accused  and  the  witnesses.  At  first  no  one  paid  much 
attention  to  the  course  of  affairs.  They  had  learned  five 
years  ago  that  the  charge  against  Albert  was  a  heavy 
one,  so  they  were  now  only  curious  about  the  examination 
of  the  witnesses,  and  that  strange,  familiar  murmur  of 
impatience  became  distinctly  audible  after  the  presiding 
officer  had  finished  his  speech.  But,  eagerly  as  the  pub- 
lic awaited  Ottmar's  entrance,  be  still  remained  behind 
the  door  of  the  witness-box.  At  last  the  presiding  officer 
commanded  Baron  von  Ottmar  to  be  summoned. 

A  satisfied  "  ah!"  ran  through  the  crowd,  as  a  gust  of 
wind  rustles  through  withered  leaves,  when  Heinrich 
appeared.  With  all  the  power  of  his  natural  and  ac- 
quired charm  of  manner  he  revealed  the  psychological 
causes  of  the  event,  and  with  convincing  legal  acuteness 
represented  them  in  their  relations  to  the  law.  He  for- 
bearingly  concealed  the  name  of  Albert's  betrothed,  and 
confessed  his  fault  with  the  dignity  of  a  man  who,  on 
the  ground  of  great  and  noble  qualities,  feels  entitled  to 
rise  above  the  errors  of  his  youth,  and  has  no  timidity 
in  acknowledging  a  wrong  if  by  so  doing  he  can  avoid  a 
greater  one.  While  Heinrich  was  speaking  he  scanned 
the  galleries,  and  Henri  gazed  into  many  a  beautiful, 
joy-beaming  face,  but  the  one  both  sought  was  absent. 

All  hearts  yearned  towards  Ottmar ;  only  she  for  whom 
all  had  been  done  unsympathizingly  avoided  the  sole 
opportunity  which  might  show  him  in  a  more  favorable 
light.  And  yet  he  could  not  believe  it;  she  must  be 


FRAULEIN  VERONICA    VON  ALBIN.  101 

there,  and  had  probably  only  concealed  herself  from  his 
gaze. 

This  doubt  aroused  the  greatest  agitation.  Almost 
mechanically  he  continued  to  play  his  part  as  a  noble 
man.  He  had  spoken  so  admirably  that  there  was  very 
little  left  for  Albert's  lawyer  to  say;  but  his  thoughts 
were  not  fixed  upon  Albert,  but  the  gallery  ;  and  the  more 
firmly  he  was  convinced  that  the  Prison  Fairy  was  not 
there,  the  more  his  joy  in  his  good  deed  disappeared ;  he 
no  longer  dared  hope  to  gain  access  to  the  obstinate  fairy 
by  any  such  means. 

The  court  had  summoned  old  Anton  from  his  home 
to  give  his  testimony ;  but  he  had  not  yet  arrived,  so 
another  session  must  be  called.  If  she  did  not  appear 
then,  he  had  lost  the  game. 

Just  at  that  moment  a  thought  entered  his  mind  which 
might  place  him  on  the  right  track.  She  could  have  ob- 
tained her  remarkable  education  only  in  scientific  circles, 
and  had  probably  been  reared  in  a  very  intellectual 
family.  Ottmar  proposed  to  make  a  round  of  visits  to 

all  the  prominent  literary  and  scientific  people  in  N . 

"  She  is  not  a  native  of  this  capital,  her  German  is  too 
correct  for  that,  so  I  will  begin  with  the  strangers,"  he 
thought.  He  had  hitherto  confined  himself  exclusively 
to  the  court  circle,  and  was  entirely  unknown  in  the 
society  he  now  proposed  to  seek. 

Sunday  intervened  between  the  first  and  second 
session  of  the  court,  and  Ottmar  availed  himself  of  it. 
He  drove  around  the  city  in  his  elegant  carriage  all  the 
morning,  and  was  everywhere  cordially  received.  Many, 
beautiful  and  ugly,  forward  and  retiring,  simple  and 
highly  educated  young  ladies  were  introduced  to  him. 
She  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

When  he  paid  the  last  visit  on  his  list,  and  there  also 
met  only  unfamiliar,  commonplace  faces,  he  asked  the 
friendly  head  of  the  household,  in  an  under-tone,  whether 
he  could  mention  any  particularly  interesting  people 
whom  a  stranger  in  N ought  to  know. 

The  old  gentleman  reflected  a  short  time,  and  finally 
inquired  whether  he  had  yet  heard  nothing  of  old 
Fraulein  Veronica  von  Albin. 

9* 


102  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"Oh,  you  must  seek  her  out!"  he  exclaimed  when 
Heinrich  answered  his  question  in  the  negative.  "She 
is  a  perfect  original,  a  petrifaction  of  the  period  of  senti- 
mentality, and  withal  a  really  intellectual  person,  in 
whose  salon  you  will  find  every  one  who  has  any 
pretensions  to  fame,  and  is  enrolled  under  the  banner  of 
poetry  and  sensibility." 

Wearied  by  his  minute  explanation,  Heinrich  ex- 
pressed his  thanks,  inquired  the  way  to  her  dwelling, 
and  drove  thither.  He  had  made  it  a  duty  to  follow 
every  suggestion  of  destiny,  but  knew  in  advance  that 
he  should  not  find  what  he  sought  in  the  home  of  a 
sentimental  old  maid. 

The  carriage  stopped  before  a  massive  stone  house. 
Two  colossal  figures  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  door 
held  lanterns  adorned  with  intricate  iron  scroll-work  in 
the  fashion  of  the  last  century.  The  lower  windows  were 
grated  with  thick  wrought-iron  bars,  and  the  heavy  oaken 
door  did  not  lack  the  shining  brass  lion's  head,  with  the 
ring  in  its  mouth.  Above  the  door  was  a  somewhat 
weather-beaten  coat-of-arms,  carved  in  stone,  over- 
shadowed by  a  tiny  balcony  provided  with  manifold 
sculptured  ornaments  and  iron  scrolls.  Heinrich  pulled 
the  bell.  The  door  was  opened,  and  when  he  entered 
a  statue  placed  in  a  niche  in  the  staircase  extended  its 
arms  as  if  in  welcome. 

A  pleasant  subdued  light  fell  upon  the  stone  stairs 
through  a  tall  pointed  window,  and  Heinrich,  most 
agreeably  impressed  by  this  old-fashioned  but  massive 
luxury,  mounted  the  broad  stone  steps. 

A  precise,  respectable  servant  was  standing  on  the 
landing,  and  silently  ushered  him  into  a  little  ante- 
chamber. Ottmar  gave  him  his  card,  and  he  went  for- 
ward on  tip-toe  to  announce  him.  For  a  few  moments 
Heinrich  had  time  to  admire  the  few  but  costly  articles 
of  furniture,  rich  carpet,  and  Chinese  vases  in  the  ante- 
room. His  hopes  began  to  sink.  The  quiet,  pedantic 
spirit  which  breathed  from  these  carefully  preserved 
relics  of  a  former  century  could  not  have  trained  the 
original,  modern,  enthusiastic  nature  of  the  Prison  Fairy. 

At   last   a   pair  of  richly-carved   folding-doors  were 


FRAULEIN  VERONICA    VON  ALBIN.  103 

thrown  open.  The  old  servant,  with  a  low  bow,  silently 
motioned  to  him  to  approach,  and  Heinrich  entered  a 
large  apartment,  furnished  in  the  ancient  French  style, 
with  silken  curtains,  and  a  polished,  inlaid  floor.  The 
sofas  and  chairs  were  of  richly  inlaid  walnut,  covered 
with  faded  but  heavy  yellow  damask.  An  old-fashioned 
screen,  ornamented  with  an  embroidered  coat-of-arms, 
stood  before  a  huge  stove  adorned  with  Chinese  designs. 
On  the  clumsy  carved  tables  lay  magnificent  velvet- 
covered  albums,  faded  and  time-worn,  as  well  as  small 
new  books  of  every  description.  A  gilt  eagle  extended 
its  wings  over  an  immense  mirror,  and  a  pair  of  sphinxes 
supported  a  marble  pier-table,  bearing  a  clock.  Family 
portraits,  centuries  old,  stared  solemnly  from  the  walls, 
and  fresh  roses  breathed  their  rich  fragrance  over  this 
peaceful  image"  of  bygone  days. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  Ottmar  entered,  the  lady 
of  the  house,  Friiulein  Veronica  von  Albin,  advanced 
through  a  pair  of  folding-doors  directly  opposite  to 
him.  She  had  a  slight  ethereal  figure,  whose  move- 
ments still  retained  the  elasticity  of  youth,  and  a  pair  of 
beautiful  blue  eyes  sparkled  in  a  wrinkled  face,  over 
which  at  least  seventy  years  had  passed.  Thin  white 
curls  were  carefully  arranged  around  the  kindly  old  fore- 
head, and  an  old-fashioned  but  dazzlingly  white  morning 
dress  rustled  softly  around  her.  She  advanced,  or  rather 
floated,  towards  Ottmar,  and  held  out  both  hands. 

"You  are  most  welcome,  Herr  von  Ottmar,"  she  said, 
with  so  cordial  an  expression  that  the  latter  bowed  low 
in  astonishment.  "You  wonder  at  my  affectionate  ad- 
dress, do  you  not  ?"  she  continued,  offering  him  a  chair. 
"It  is  because  we  always  think  those  whom  we  know 
so  well  must  know  us.  Since  the  public  legal  investiga- 
tion you  have  become  common  property,  and  indeed  such 
property  as  every  one  would  most  gladly  appropriate  to 
himself!" 

"  Have  you  been  present  at  the  examination,  Frau- 
lein  ?"  asked  Ottmar. 

"Certainly;  and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  became  very 
much  attached  to  you  in  the  few  hours  I  saw  andjieard 
you.  Nothing  could  have  afforded  me  greater  pleasure 


104  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

than  to  receive  this  visit.  Thank  God,  I  am  old  enough 
to  be  able  to  tell  you  so  without  embarrassment,"  she 
continued,  smiling. 

Heinrich  found  the  youthful  old  lady  possessed  very 
good  taste,  and  involuntarily  thought  "  women  are  really 
attractive  only  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  life." 

"My  dear  Fraulein,"  he  began,  "you  do  not  know 
how  happy  your  kindness  makes  me.  I  am  a  stranger 
here,  and  seek  those  who  will  understand  me.  The  empty 
life  of  the  court  no  longer  satisfies  me.  I  long  for  some- 
thing else,  and  come  to  you  because  I  was  told  that  I 
should  here  find  what  I  sought ;  and  indeed  I  hope  if  I 
meet  with  it  anywhere  it  will  be  here." 

"  I  think  you  may  be  right,"  said  she,  looking  at  him 
with  winning  affection.  Old  age,  by  relaxing  the  lids, 
had  drawn  a  veil  over  the  bright  blue  eyes,  but  a  glance 
so  full  of  soul,  and  pure  youthful  emotion,  beamed  from 
them  that  Heinrich  gazed  at  her  with  increasing  admira- 
tion. "  Not  that  I  imagine  you  could  find  amusement  in 
an  old  woman  like  me,  but  I  have  the  pleasure  of  draw- 
ing young  and  brilliant  people  around  me,  in  whom  you 
will  surely  find  something  to  please  you." 

"  You  certainly  have  some  relations?"  asked  Heinrich, 
expectantly. 

"Not  exactly  relations,"  she  said,  shortly;  "but  it  is 
a  great  mercy  that  God  gave  me  the  faculty  of  living 
with  young  persons,  and  that  there  is  at  least  nothing 
repulsive  in  my  old  age.  The  young  people  cling  to  me, 
and  daily  bring  new  joys  into  my  quiet  house." 

"  Permit  me  to  ask  you  one  question,  Fraulein,"  said 
Heinrich, — then  hesitated  a  moment,  and  continued  in  a 
very  different  tone:  "  How  ia  it  possible  that  time  has 
passed  you  by  without  leaving  more  traces?" 

"Yes,  it  is  singular.  I  have  really  remained  twenty 
years  behind  my  true  age.  The  machinery  continued  to 
move,  but  the  hands  were  stopped  by  a  great  shock,  and 
never  overtook  the  time.  It  is  a  strange,  sorrowful  story, 
and  some  day  when  we  are  sitting  by  my  cozy,  singing 
tea-urn  I  will  tell  you  about  it." 

"A  sorrowful  story?"  asked  Heinrich.  "I  should 
have  thought  you  were  very  happy  and  contented." 


FRAULEIN  VERONICA    VON   ALB1N.  105 

"Yes,  I  am  now.  Time  effaces  everything,  and  I  seem 
to  myself  like  a  transfigured  spirit.  I  have  no  longer 
anxieties  or  wishes,  look  upon  life  calmly  and  impartially, 
and  love  all  men.  My  body,  as  you  see,  is  no  very  heavy 
burden,  and  thus,  thank  God,  I  am  not  so  widely  sep- 
arated from  the  angels." 

There  was  such  a  depth  of  earnestness  concealed  under 
these  jesting  words  that  Heinrich,  strangely  moved, 
passed  his  hand  over  his  brow.  It  seemed  as  if  a  good 
genius  with  a  gentle  smile  had  raised  him  to  a  height 
from  whence  he  could  view  at  a  single  glance  all  the 
perishableness  and  emptiness  of  life.  "Oh,  who  could 
bring  heaven  so  near  as  you  ?"  he  said,  at  last. 

"Dear  friend,"  she  replied,  with  a  winning  glance, 
"  there  is  also  a  heaven  upon  earth  in  our  own  breasts. 
Do  not  seek  it  without,  but  within  your  heart ;  then  you 
will  not  come  into  heaven  for  the  first  time  when  you  die, 
but  remain  in  it  always." 

"  My  dear  Friiulein,"  pleaded  Heinrich,  "permit  me 
now  and  then  to  linger  a  short  time  in  yours  until  I  have 
created  one  of  my  own.  Will  you  ?" 

"  Certainly ;  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  It  does  you 
honor  that,  without  any  other  design,  you  can  take 
pleasure  in  spending  a  few  hours  with  an  old  lady  like 
myself;  and  I  assure  you  that  your  good  intention  will 
be  rewarded, — rely  upon  it." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  said  Heinrich ;  "  but  I  ask  no 
other  reward  than  your  favor  and  counsel  in  many  things 
that  oppress  my  heart." 

"  I  will  tell  you," — Yeronica  cast  a  hasty  glance  at  the 
great  clock.  "  Come  and  take  tea  with  me  to-morrow 
evening.  Some  of  my  chosen  friends  will  be  here,  and  I 
am  curious  to  see  how  they  will  please  you.  One  thing 
I  can  positively  assure  you  beforehand :  you  will  find 
only  good  men  with  me.  Old  and  independent  as  I  am, 
I  need  not  receive  any  except  those  whom  I  love;  and 
only  such  as  have  preserved  a  childlike,  unassuming 
character  (now,  unfortunately,  so  rarely  found)  take 
pleasure  in  my  simple  nature." 

"Who  could  be  so  unfeeling  as  to  find  no  charm  in 
you  ?"  said  Heinrich. 
E* 


106  -4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Who  ?  Alas  !  unfortunately  there  are  many.  Believe, 
me,  our  young  people  are  now  very  old.  When  I  think 
how  it  used  to  be  in  my  time !  There  are  no  longer 
any  illusions, — any  enthusiasms.  I  have  often  talked  to 
young  people  who  seemed  so  old  that  I  have  asked  my- 
self with  shame,  '  Oh,  God !  am  I  really  so  childlike,  or 
already  so  childish,  that  the  young  people  of  the  present 
day  are  so  much  wiser  and  more  steady?'  And  that  is 
not  the  worst.  I  have  always  seen  that  the  childlike  or 
childish  old  woman  is  much  happier  in  her  simple  exist- 
ence than  all  these  hopeful  young  persons,  upon  whom 
life  still  smiles  with  rosy  hues ;  and  it  makes  me  feel 
sad." 

"She  might  have  educated  the  Prison  Fairy,"  thought 
Heinrich,  and  at  last  determined  to  ask  her;  but  Vero- 
nica, without  allowing  herself  to  be  interrupted,  con- 
tinued, with  the  loquacity  of  age :  "  I  know  they  call 
me  the  Sensitive  Plant,  because  I  have  preserved  my 
quick  feelings  and  ready  tears ;  but  I  do  not  think  they 
are  mocking  me,  for  they  know  I  play  no  sentimental 
comedy,  but  rejoice  with  those  who  rejoice,  and  even 
follow  with  sincere  interest  the  struggles  of  the  age, 
although  they  do  not  please  me.  To  me  the  only  true 
voices  are  those  that  speak  from  sentiment  and  in  its 
behalf;  therefore  I  must  confess  that  I  prefer  them  to 
the  modern  spirit  of  speculation,  piquant  as  it  is,  and 
shall  listen  to  them  devoutly  until  death  some  day  solves 
for  me  the  mystery  of  life."  She  again  glanced  at  the 
clock  and  made  Heinrich  a  confused  apology  for  having 
chattered  so  long. 

Heinrich  could  do  nothing  but  take  leave,  and  was 
compelled  to  defer  receiving  the  ardently  desired  assur- 
ance until  the  morrow ;  he  bowed  as  low  and  as  fre- 
quently as  possible,  and  withdrew  from  the  apartment  as 
slowly  as  he  could.  The  lock  of  the  door  stuck  in  his 
hand  as  if  it  were  bewitched,  and  he  was  so  absent- 
minded  that  he  was  obliged  to  pause  some  time  in  the 
ante-chamber  to  remember  which  was  the  way  out;  he 
did  not  know  where  he  was  or  what  he  was  doing. 
Meantime  bitter  reflections  upon  his  hasty  dismissal,  his 
own  strange  embarrassment,  which  had  made  the  harmless 


PROGRESS.  10T 

question  falter  on  his  lips  more  and  more  the  longer  he 
delayed  it,  until  at  last  he  could  no  longer  utter  it;  upon 
the  old  lady's  loquacity,  which  had  not  allowed  him  to 
speak :  in  short,  the  striking  of  a  large  cuckoo-clock, 
which  also  seemed  to  jeer  at  him,  first  made  him  aware 
that  he  must  at  last  leave  the  house.  With  a  despairing 
glance  at  the  different  doors  he  went  away,  and  on  reach- 
ing the  carriage  could  not  help  laughing  at  himself. 
Heinrich  scoffed  at  Henri,  and  Henri  derided  Heinrich. 
An  impulse  of  rejoicing  over  something,  he  knew  not 
what,  overpowered  him. 


X. 

PROGRESS. 

EARLY  the  following  day  there  was  a  fresh  crowd  and 
bustle  in  the  hall  where  the  court  held  its  session.  The 
pressure  was  so  violent  that  it  was  already  necessary  to 
have  police  stationed  before  the  building  to  preserve 
order.  At  last  all  became  quiet,  for  the  judges  entered. 
Ottmar,  with  his  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  the  gallery, 
looked  handsomer  than  ever.  His  stern  bearing  seemed 
more  gentle,  his  slight  figure  more  elastic,  the  harsh,, 
rigid  outline  youthfully  soft,  and  around  the  delicately 
modeled  lips  played  an  irresistible  smile.  His  dark  hair 
was  brushed  back,  and  the  peace  of  a  quiet  conscience 
seemed  to  rest  upon  his  noble  brow.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  constantly  on  the  same  spot  with  a  remarkably 
friendly  glance,  until  at  last  all  eagerly  followed  the 
direction  of  the  look,  but  to  their  great  surprise  saw  no 
one  except  old  Fraulein  von  Albin,  with  several  elderly 
ladies  and  gentlemen. 

"What  has  he  to  do  with  her  ?"  they  asked  each  other. 

The  examination  lasted  only  a  short  time.  Old  Anton 
arrived  and  confirmed  his  master's  deposition.  The 
court  withdrew  to  deliberate  upon  the  sentence.  An 
expectant  stillness  greeted  its  reappearance.  All  eyes 


108  -A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

were  fixed  upon  Albert,  who  awaited  the  announcement 
of  the  sentence  with  feverish  suspense. 

It  found  him  guilty  of  the  attempt  to  murder  while  in 
a  passion,  and  deserving  of  three  years'  imprisonment; 
but,  as  the  accused  had  already  endured  a  longer  and 
more  severe  punishment,  ordered  bis  immediate  release. 

Albert  seemed  confused  and  did  not  appear  to  under- 
stand anything. 

"You  are  free!"  cried  Heinrich.  But  Albert  with  a 
deep  sigh  sank  senseless  into  the  arms  of  the  bystanders 
like  a  somnambulist  suddenly  aroused  from  a  heavy 
slumber.  Ere  long,  however,  he  opened  his  eyes  and 
threw  himself  at  Heinrich's  feet,  murmuring,  "  Forgive 
me !" 

"We  have  both  forgiven  each  other  long  ago,"  replied 
Heinrich,  raising  him  kindly  from  the  ground. 

The  presiding  officer  approached  him,  saying,  "  Herr 
von  Ottrnar,  allow  me  in  the  name  of  the  whole  court 
to  thank  you  for  having  given  us  an  opportunity  to  re- 
scind an  undeserved  sentence,  and  changed  the  sad  duty 
of  condemnation  to  the  joy  of  pronouncing  a  decree  of 
liberation  ;  permit  me  to  give  you  the  assurance  that  I 
have  become  your  sincere  friend." 

Heinrich  took  a  cordial  farewell  of  the  worthy  man, 
whose  eyes  beamed  with  heartfelt  esteem.  But  when 
he  came  out  of  the  building  to  enter  his  carriage  the 
multitude  had  assembled  before  it,  and  for  the  6rst  time 
in  his  life  a  loud  cheer  of  universal  approbation  greeted 
him.  Heinrich  felt  every  nerve  thrill  pleasantly  at  the 
unwonted  sound,  and  as  he  raised  his  bat  in  acknowl- 
edgment murmured,  with  joyful  emotion,  "Prison  Fairy, 
I  thank  you  !" 

He  had  intended  to  play  a  part ;  but  the  seriousness 
of  the  matter  had  laid  hold  upon  him  and  converted 
acting  to  reality.  He  perceived  this  fact  with  a  throb 
of  strange  elation  ;  and  if  the  joy  be  felt  sprang  more 
from  the  result  than  the  act  itself,  the  pleasure  was  so 
pure,  the  vanity  so  legitimate,  that  even  he  could  scarcely 
distinguish  it  from  the  emotions  of  an  unselfish,  satisfied 
conscience.  Enough  :  he  had  done  a  noble  deed,  felt  the 
happier  for  it,  and  formed  the  resolution  to  take  advan- 


PROGRESS.  109 

tage  of  every  opportunity  of  procuring  this  delight  again. 
But  of  course  he  thought  only  of  those  occasions  which 
would  secure  him  a  similar  popular  recognition  ;  he  did 
not  think  of  the  unfortunates  he  might  aid,  but  of  the 
gratitude  he  should  receive  from  them  and  the  public. 
To  his  heartless  egotism  no  other  course  of  reflection 
was  possible,  yet  even  this  was  a  great  advance  towards 
better  things. 

There  are  natures  which,  incited  by  the  love  of  ap- 
plause, first  do  good  merely  from  vanity  ;  but  the  more 
frequently  this  occurs,  the  more  they  become  accustomed 
to  it,  and  at  last  do  it,  with  or  without  success,  from 
habit.  But  inasmuch  as  every  habit  gradually  becomes 
a  necessity,  so  it  is  with  this,  until  at  last  they  do  right 
from  a  secret  need. 

Ottmar  was  such  a  man.  Amid  all  his  great  faults 
and  errors,  it  was  not  the  opposition  between  right  and 
wrong  that  was  the  point  of  controversy  in  his  nature, 
but  that  between  the  heart  and  intellect.  The  cause  of 
all  the  dissensions  about  right  and  wrong  into  which 
Heinrich,  as  well  as  Henri,  had  fallen,  was  that  his 
heart  and  intellect  opposed  each  other,  instead  of  harmo- 
nizing. All  Heinrich's  errors  were  rooted  solely  in  the 
selfishness  of  his  cold  intellect,  as  Henri's  were  founded 
upon  the  egotism  of  his  material  nature.  If  any  great 
influence  could  succeed  in  uniting  the  two  extremes  he 
would  become  the  most  noble  and  estimable  of  men. 
Society,  therefore,  is  not  so  far  wrong  when  it  allows 
itself  to  be  dazzled  by  the  ideal  nimbus  which  such 
persons  understand  how  to  diffuse  around  them  ;  for  be- 
neath it  there  is  always  an  instinct  of  good  by  means 
of  which  they  may  really  become  what  they  seem. 

There  are  also  noble,  sensitive  souls  which  understand 
such  men,  and  wish  to  aid  them  in  reaching  the  right 
path.  The  extent  of  their  success  of  course  depends 
upon  their  own  capacity. 

Ottilie  was  one  of  these  souls,  but  Ottmar  knew  that 
the  Prison  Fairy  would  become  more,  infinitely  more,  to 
him  if  he  could  succeed  in  approaching  her.  That  which 
in  the  fading,  suffering  Ottilie  had  failed  to  make  any 
deeper  impression  upon  him,  because  it  had  appeared  in 

10 


HO  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

a  form  too  sentimental,  too  little  akin  to  his  own  nature, 
kindled  an  ardent  enthusiasm  in  him  when  he  encountered 
it  in  the  energetic,  vivacious  Prison  Fairy.  Ottilie  seemed 
to  him  a  distant,  glorified  ideal ;  her  self-denial,  her  capacity 
for  self-sacrifice,  appeared  superhuman,  and  only  rooted  in 
the  indifference  of  a  spirit  striving  to  cast  off  its  earthly 
nature  ;  it  never  entered  his  mind  to  try  to  imitate, 
greatly  as  he  admired  it.  The  Prison  Fairy,  while  pos- 
sessing Ottilie's  ideal  character,  was  also  in  every  respect 
congenial  to  him,  and  thus  he  could  follow  her.  He  had 
seen  the  former  suffer  from  her  ideas,  which  repelled 
him  ;  but  the  latter  was  happy,  and  attracted  him.  In  a 
word,  the  princess  gave  him  the  theory,  the  Prison 
Fairy  the  practice. 

He  owed  Ottilie  nothing  save  a  fruitless  knowledge  of 
himself;  but  to  the  impression  the  unknown  girl  had 
made  upon  him  he  was  already  indebted  for  this  first 
hour  of  happiness,  and  all  his  hopes  were  fixed  upon  this 
noble,  womanly  apparition. 

Albert,  whom  he  had  taken  home  with  him,  as  he  had 
no  friends  in  the  city,  gave  all  the  information  he  could 
bestow,  which  was  only  that  she  came  to  his  cell  very 
early  in  the  morning  of  the  day  before  the  court  held  its 
session  and  took  leave  of  him,  as  she  was  sure  he  would 
be  liberated.  She  gave  him  several  louis-d'or  to  sup- 
ply his  immediate  wants,  and  told  him  to  write  a  letter 
containing  news  of  himself  every  week,  addressed  to  the 
initial  B.,  paste  restante.  He  was  obliged  to  repeat  the 
simple  story  to  Eeinrich  every  half-hour.  Thus  the 
afternoon  passed  away,  and  Ottmar  went  to  dress, — the 
time  appointed  for  the  tea-party  had  almost  arrived.  Will 
she  be  there  ? — or  will  she  not? — was  the  axis  around 
which  all  his  thoughts  revolved. 

A  merry  company  engaged  in  eager  conversation  about 
Ottmar  had  assembled  in  Fraulein  von  Albin's  salon. 
Veronica  was  unusually  bright.  She  wore  a  tight 
dress  of  light  yellow  satin,  richly  trimmed  with  old  .lace, 
kid  mitts,  and  a  cap  with  a  light  yellow  ribbon.  When 
she  sat  down  she  could  scarcely  be  distinguished  from 
the  sofa,  which  had  a  covering  of  the  same  hue ;  and 


PROGRESS.  Ill 

when  she  walked  she  looked  like  one  of  the  oblique  rays 
of  light  that  fall  through  old  church  windows. 

"  Come,  pray  do  me  the  favor  to  stop  talking  about 
Ottmar,"  she  said,  uneasily.  "  Can't  you  speak  of  some- 
thing else  ?" 

"  Ah  !  what  subject  could  we  have  that  would  be  more 
interesting  ?"  murmured  the  young  girls. 

Veronica  sent  them  into  an  adjoining  room,  and  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  discussed  a  wider  range  of  topics. 
Just  then  the  folding-doors  were  thrown  wide  open, 
and  with  his  usual  haughty  bearing  the  much-talked-of 
Ottmar  entered.  A  murmur  of  pleasure  ran  through  the 
astonished  company,  but  as  yet  the  young  girls  in  the 
adjoining  room  noticed  nothing. 

Veronica  received  her  visitor  with  the  pride  with  which 
one  sees  an  agreeable  surprise  prepared  for  one's  guests 
safely  enter  upon  the  scene.  After  the  first  introductions 
and  remarks,  Heinrich's  eyes  wandered  hastily  around 
the  room.  She  was  not  there. 

"  Will  you  not  present  me  to  your  young  friends  also  ?" 
he  said,  at  last,  turning  beseechingly  to  Veronica. 

The  latter  led  him  triumphantly  into  the  "  second  salon," 
where,  unobserved,  he  paused  a  few  moments  in  the  door- 
way and  scanned  the  company. 

The  young  girls  were  playing  "  Guess  by  the  dancing." 
One  of  them  was  obliged  to  stand  in  the  centre  of  the 
circle,  dance  blindfolded  with  a  gentleman,  and  guess  bis 
name  by  his  dancing.  A  young  girl  whose  wonderful 
figure  aroused  Henri's  astonishment  was  now  within  the 
ring.  She  wore  a  thin  white  dress  embroidered  with  crim- 
son flowers,  her  rich  curling  hair  was  arranged  in  two 
heavy  braids,  and  a  spray  of  crimson  blossoms  fell  upon 
her  beautiful  neck. 

Henri  would  gladly  have  seen  the  face  concealed  under 
the  broad  handkerchief.  A  gentleman  was  to  be  led  up 
to  her:  Veronica  took  Ottmar's  hand,  motioned  to  the 
company  to  say  nothing,  and  drew  him  forward  to  the 
young  girl.  Henri  threw  his  arm  around  her,  and  they 
swept  round  the  room  in  rapid  circles.  Delighted  with 
the  grace  and  ease  of  her  dancing,  he  drew  the  soft, 
pliant  figure  more  closely  to  him;  her  breath  fanned  his 


112  A    T\VO FOLD  LIFE. 

cheek,  and  his  gently  stirred  the  hair  upon  her  brow. 
The  narrow  space  visible  under  the  bandage  became 
suffused  with  a  deep  blush;  a  magnetic  bond  was  being 
woven  between  them.  She  paused  and  released  herself 
from  his  clasp. 

"  Well,  who  is  it?"  cried  Veronica. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  young  girl,  panting  for 
breath.  "  It  is  none  of  the  gentlemen  who  were  here  be- 
fore." 

Henri  stood  as  if  spell-bound  ;  surely  he  ought  to  know 
that  soft,  rich  voice,  and  he  removed  the  bandage  himself. 
"  Prison  Fairy,"  he  murmured,  as  a  pair  of  large,  dark 
eyes  gazed  at  him  as  if  in  a  dream. 

She  was  so  much  startled  that  she  turned  pale  and 
tottered.  Henri  supported  her,  and  the  others  rushed 
forward.  "  Oh,  it  is  nothing,"  said  she  ;  "  dancing  with 
my  eyes  bandaged  makes  me  dizzy. 'V  Then  thanking 
Henri  with  a  slight  bow,  she  begged  to  be  excused  till 
she  had  recovered  her  breath,  and  went  into  an  adjoining 
room,  where  it  was  cool  and  quiet. 

Henri  sought  Veronica  to  request  her  to  introduce  him 
to  the  charming  young  girl.  "  Certainly,"  said  she;  "I 
have  anticipated  this  moment  with  great  pleasure." 

They  found  the  Prison  Fairy  in  the  tea-room  leaning 
against  an  open  window.  She  was  gazing  thoughtfully 
into  the  darkness,  and  did  not  feel  the  cold  night  air  that 
blew  over  her  white  shoulders. 

"Cornelia,"  cried  Veronica,  "you  will  take  cold.  How 
can  people  be  so  careless?"  The  young  girl  closed  the 
window  and  turned  towards  the  approaching  pair. 

"Herr  von  Ottmar,"  said  Veronica,  presenting  him. 
"  This  is  the  child  of  my  dead  adopted  daughter,  and 
therefore  my  adopted  granddaughter,  Fraulein  Cornelia 
Erwing.  The  one  sole  treasure  I  still  possess  in  this 
world  1" 

Both  bowed  in  silence. 

"See,  my  child,"  said  the  old  lady,  joyously;  "this  is 
the  surprise  I  told  you  about  yesterday." 

"  It  is  certainly  very  unexpected,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Allow  me  to  hope,  Fraulein,  that  at  least  it  was  not 
undesiredt" 


PROGRESS.  113 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Yeronica,  laughing,  as  Cornelia  made 
no  answer.  "  You  may  be  sure  that  she  belongs  to  the 
ranks  of  your  greatest  adorers;  but  she  is  au  obstinate 
little  thing,  and  never  pays  any  one  a  compliment  will- 
ingly." A  glance  of  earnest  entreaty  from  the  Prison 
Fairy  silenced  her  enthusiastic  kindliness. 

"  Fraulein,"  said  Henri,  firmly,  "you  have  hitherto 
eluded  me  in  so  remarkable  a  manner  that  you  will  not 
be  angry  if  I  now  implore  you  to  grant  me  a  few  words 
of  explanation  ?  You  will  not  refuse  this  satisfaction  to 
the  man  who  rejoices  in  the  favor  of  your  honored  foster- 
mother  ?" 

"  Do  you  permit  it?"  asked  Cornelia. 

"What  would  I  not  permit  to  you,  my  dear  child?" 
replied  Veronica.  "  Speak  on;  I  shall  not  disturb  you,  for 
I  must  go  back  to  my  guests." 

The  two  were  left  alone. 

A  violent  struggle  now  arose  in  Ottmar  as  to  which  of 
his  two  individualities  should  rule  this  scene.  It  urged 
Henri  irresistibly  towards  the  sofa  upon  which  the  beauti- 
ful figure  had  sank,  while  Heinrich  was  unwilling  to  lose 
any  of  the  precious  moments  he  had  longed  for  during 
the  last  weeks.  The  two  natures  had  never  struggled 
with  each  other  so  obstinately  before.  At  last  Henri 
drew  back  that  Heinrich  might,  so  to  speak,  do  him 
credit  with  the  talented  girl.  Heinrich  seated  himself  in 
an  arm-chair  near  the  sofa,  and  tried  to  collect  his  thoughts 
after  Henri's  fierce  revolt. 

"  So  I  have  found  you  at  -last,  wonderful,  wilful  crea- 
ture!" he  began.  "Speak,  why  have  you  made  it  so 
difficult  for  me  to  do  so  ?" 

"I  would  tell  you  if  I  did  not  fear  offending  you." 

"  You  cannot  offend  me,  for  I  intend  to  learn  from  you 
how  to  become  a  different  person ;  of  course  the  change 
must  begin  with  my  faults." 

"  Well,  then,"  she  said,  firmly,  "some  years  ago  there 
was  a  great  deal  said  here  about  a  certain  Herr  von  Ott- 
mar, whose  rapid  rise  in  a  foreign  country  excited  general 
astonishment.  People  were  delighted  with  his  talents,  but 
hated  him  for  the  use  he  made  of  them,  and  feared  him 
as  the  most  zealous  instrument  of  the  despotic  system  of 
10* 


114  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

our  government.  They  admired  his  personal  qualities, 
but  blamed  the  want  of  principle  with  which  he  sought 
to  make  them  win  the  hearts  of  women.  I  never  wished 
to  see  this  gentleman  ;  for,  after  all  I  had  heard,  I  felt  a 
deep  repugnance  towards  him.  Suddenly  a  man  appears 
before  me  in  the  prison,  whose  manner  and  language  stir 
my  inmost  soul  with  sympathetic  emotion.  Without  the 
slightest  restraint  I  yield  to  this  impression  as  I  do  to 
everything  good  and  beautiful, — and  learn  that  this  man, 
with  the  lofty,  noble  brow,  the  earnest,  expressive  glance, 
is  the  notorious  Ottmar  ;  learn  it  at  the  moment  when, 
voluntarily,  in  mere  arrogance,  he  confesses  one  of  the 
crimes  so  often  imputed  to  him.  It  wounded  me  all  the 
more  because  I  thought  I  had  discovered  at  the  first 
glance  something  rare,  ideal,  in  your  character.  I  had 
therefore  in  your  case  lost  the  balance  which  usually  aids 
my  intercourse  with  men.  I  became  deceived,  bewil- 
dered, almost  irresolute,  and  wavered  between  my  previous 
conviction  and  the  impression  produced  by  your  personal 
attributes.  The  former  had  its'  sure  foundations ;  the 
latter  I  believed  to  be  treacherous,  and  therefore  avoided 
you  so  anxiously.  I  would  not  allow  myself  to  be  bribed 
by  your  manners  to  excuse  and  forget  what  my  better 
judgment  must  condemn." 

"And  the  step  towards  the  right  path  which  you  after- 
wards saw  me  take  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"Increased  my  sympathy  for  you,  and  at  the  same 
time  my  doubts.  A  secret  power  urged  me  to  defend 
you  when  you  were  attacked,  and  yet  I  did  not  believe 
what  I  said  myself.  This  is  why  my  adopted  mother 
classed  me  among  your  adorers,  and  thought  to  give  me 
pleasure  by  inviting  you  here  ;  but  I  do  not  at  all  approve 
of  such  a  step.  You  are  the  petted  hero  of  the  day; 
every  one  is  crowding  around  you.  It  is  bitter  to  me  to 
be  compelled  to  think  that  you  could  charge  us  with  ob- 
trusiveness." 

"  I  understand  you,  Fraulein,"  said  Heinricli;  "but  you 
seem  to  be  in  error.  Fraulein  von  Albin  had  an  excellent 
reason  for  inviting  me,  for  I  called  upon  her  yesterday." 

"  What!  did  you  do  that?"  exclaimed  Cornelia,  an  ex- 
pression of  joy  flashing  over  her  face. 


PROGRESS.  115 

"Did  you  not  know  it?" 

"No!    I  suppose   Veronica  said   nothing1  about  it  on 
purpose  to  surprise  me.     She  certainly  desires  nothing 
but  to  give  pleasure,  and  her  simple  nature  chooses  every 
conceivable  means  of  doing  so.    But  how  did  you  happen 
to  come  to  this  quiet  home  ?" 
"Because  I  was  seeking  you.11 
"And  why?" 

"  Because  I  am  superstitious  enough  to  see  in  our 
meeting  the  hand  of  fate,  and  had  an  irresistible  impulse 
to  follow  the  hint ;  because  I  expect  to  receive  from  you 
the  only  salvation  I  can  still  obtain  ;  because — ah,  let  me 
speak  frankly  ! — because  you  please  me  infinitely." 

"You  have  probably  said  that  to  a  great  many 
persons,"  replied  Cornelia,  coldly. 

Heinrich  looked  her  steadily  and  frankly  in  the  face. 
"  Certainly  I  have.  Why  should  I  not?  I  did  not  say 
that  you  alone  please  me." 

Cornelia  blushed.  "  That  is  at  least  sincere." 
"As  we  always  will  be  towards  each  other,"  said  Hein- 
rich, firmly.  "  In  your  youthfully  hasty  judgment  you 
have  placed  me  in  the  position  of  a  criminal.  I  will  not 
justify  myself,  but  afford  you  the  possibility  of  doing  so. 
To  deny  my  faults  would  help  you  very  little,  but  I  will 
teach  you  to  understand  them.  First  of  all,  let  us  be 
perfectly  clear  in  regard  to  the  relation  in  which  we  wish 
to  stand  towards  each  other,  then  you  will  trust  me 
more.  I  perceive,  by  your  last  remark,  that  you  con- 
sider me  a  universal  gallant.  You  are  mistaken, 
Fraulein ;  I  do  not  love  you,  and  I  desire  no  such  feeling 
from  you.  Do  not  fear  that  you  will  be  compelled  to 
listen  to  tender  declarations  from  me;  I  should  not 
venture  to  offer  you  a  heart  which  you  know  has  already 
loved  so  often !  But  I  offer  you  a  feeling  that  hitherto 
has  slumbered  in  my  soul,  pure  and  unprofaned ;  I  offer 
you  the  truest,  most  devoted  friendship.  If  you  will 
neither  accept  nor  respond  even  to  this,  I  ask  of  you  a 
portion  of  that  philanthropy  whose  missionary  you  are, — 
I  ask  and  demand  from  you  that  Christianity  which  vouch- 
safes to  all  the  same  blessing,  and  excludes  none  who 
truly  desire  it." 


116  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

Cornelia  sat  in  silence,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
floor. 

"  You  are  silent!  you  have  no  answer  for  me  !  Prison 
Fairy,  Prison  Fairy,  must  I  remind  you  of  your  mission  ? 
Oh,  girl !  do  not  let  me  be  perplexed  by  you  ;  do  not  let 
me  think  that  those  eyes, — that  the  mighty  pulsations 
of  a  breast  animated  by  a  lofty  idea, — have  deceived  me  ; 
that  you  are  less  noble  than  they  seem  :  it  would  be  the 
last,  the  most  terrible  disappointment  of  my  life." 

Cornelia  gazed  at  the  ardent  speaker  with  a  searching 
glance.  Her  breath  came  more  quickly,  her  lips  parted 
several  times  before  she  could  utter  the  words,  "We  will 
be  friends,  Herr  von  Ottmar." 

Heinrich  bent  over  her  with  a  winning  smile.  "You 
are  forcing  back  something  that  hovers  on  your  tongue, 
Fraulein  !  Do  you  know  that  on  that  first  meeting  you 
promised  to  be  good  to  me  if  I  would  be  good  to  the 
prisoners  !  I  have  redeemed  my  promise  ;  but  you  f" 

"That  is  not  sufficient;  you  must  abide  by  it  still 
longer.  Keep  your  word,  and  I  will  keep  mine." 

"  Dear  Fairy,"  said  Heinrich,  "  cast  aside  this  cold 
formality,  which  is  ill  suited  to  you  and  not  at  all  in 
place  towards  me.  Be  the  warm,  earnest  creature, 
loving  both  God  and  mankind,  whom  I  found  in  the 
dungeon,  and  who,  by  her  rich  soul,  could  transform  the 
prisoner's  punishment  to  reward.  Be  gentle;  you  know 
not  how  necessary  you  are  to  this  wounded  heart,  bur- 
dened by  heavy  chains.  We  are  nearly  akin  to  each 
other,  and  you  will  perceive  it  some  day.  I  see  it  in  the 
flashing  of  those  mysterious  eyes  ;  in  you  also  slumbers  a 
secret  before  whose  revelation  you  would  recoil  in  terror 
did  not  the  faithful  arm  of  an  experienced  friend  guard 
you  from  the  horrors  in  your  own  breast.  Come,  give 
me  your  hands, — so, — now  you  look  kindly  at  me  ;  that 
haughty  brow  grows  smooth, — does  that  mild,  thoughtful 
glance  rest  willingly  upon  my  features?  Say  nothing, 
our  souls  are  talking  together,  and  confiding  things  of 
which  neither  of  us  has  any  knowledge.  Oh,  dear  one  I 
our  pouls  already  understand  each  other  better  than  we." 

"  We  and  our  souls  are  one,"  murmured  Cornelia  ;  "  if 
they  understand  each  other,  so  do  we.  Let  me  confess 


PROGRESS.  H7 

that  I  believe  I  have  done  you  a  great  wrong-;  if  that  is 
the  case,  forgive  me,  for  the  sake  of  this  moment." 

"There  is  no  wrong,  Cornelia,  for  which  a  single 
moment  of  true  love  could  not  make  amends." 

Cornelia  pressed  his  hand  with  the  half-grave,  half- 
friendly  smile  which  had  so  great  a  charm  for  Heinrich. 

"  So  I  have  found  you  at  last,  you  dear,  beautiful  child  !" 
he  exclaimed.  "Cling  to  me  faithfully;  you  shall  not 
be  mistaken  in  me." 

She  rose  to  return  to  the  guests.  "  Surely  you  will 
not  deceive  me  ?"  she  asked,  half  doubtfully  and  half 
firmly,  but  with  charming  sincerity. 

"Prison  Fairy,  do  you  need  any  other  assurances? 
Only  try  yourself,  and  you  will  refute  your  doubt  better 
than  modesty  allows  me  to  do." 

"Are  you  so  sure  of  that  ?"  she  asked,  smiling  ;  "now 
I  think  your  modesty  does  not  weigh  very  heavily  upon 
you."  An  expression  of  the  most  charming  petulance 
gleamed  over  her  face  as  she  glided  away. 

"  You  are  caught,  wild,  changeful  soul ;  yet  not  to 
cause  you  pain,  only  to  do  me  good,  I  impose  upon  you 
this  chain,  whose  weight  you  shall  never  feel,"  said 
Heinrich.  "  You  soar  towards  the  sun ;  let  us  see 
whether  you  will  have  the  strength  to  draw  me  up  with 
you!" 

"You  can  be  borne  towards  the  sun  on  the  wings  of 
her  aspiring  spirit  !"  cried  Henri,  "if  only  the  lovely 
form  which  enthrals  me  as  no  other  ever  did  before 
remains  upon  the  earth.  Guide  her  soul  whither  you 
please,  and  leave  me  alone  with  its  earthly  husk.  Then 
we  can  both  possess  a  happiness  we  have  never  yet 
known." 

"  So  long  as  I  can  be  with  her  I  shall  maintain  my 
place,"  said  Heinrich ;  "  and  this  time  I  do  not  think  you 
will  obtain  the  victory  over  .me  !" 

"  Indeed  !  Well,  let  us  see  who  will  first  conquer  the 
other,"  said  the  aroused  spirit  of  sensuality.  "Will  you 
all  at  once  meet  me  in  a  hostile  encounter,  after  letting 
me  have  my  own  way  so  long?  What  will  come  of  it 
if  the  gulf  between  us  should  be  so  greatly  enlarged  ?'' 
"  What  will  come  of  it  ?"  asked  Heinrich.  "I  do  not 


118  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

know;  probably  merely  what  has  always  happened, — a 
loss  of  peace ;  and,  although  I  have  hitherto  indulged 
you,  it  has  only  been  because  I  could  share  your 
pleasures  as  little  as  you  could  find  joy  in  mine.  Here, 
for  the  first  time,  we  unite  in  a  common  desire;  our 
mutual  interest  is  captivated  by  one  and  the  same  object, 
but  it  is  our  curse  that  the  very  thing  which  ought  to 
unite  us  severs  us  most  violently.  Her  noble  mind 
attracts  me  as  greatly  as  her  beautiful  person  charms 
you,  and  I  will  not  voluntarily  resign  to  you  a  single 
hour  I  can  spend  in  conversation  with  her.  Therefore, 
we  must  struggle." 

"  Yes,  we  will,"  said  Henri. 

"Herr  von  Ottniar,"  cried  Veronica  from  the  door, 
"  will  you  join  the  young  people's  games,  or  do  you 
prefer  the  salon  ?" 

"Don't  grudge  me  the  privilege  of  mingling  with  the 
young  people  for  a  time,"  he  answered,  and  entered  the 
room  where  Cornelia,  radiant  with  mirth  and  mischiev- 
ousness,  was  bantering  the  young  girls  who  were  stand- 
ing around  her. 

"Veronica,"  she  cried,  "the  ladies  have  been  indus- 
trious; we  sha'n't  play  games  any  longer.  There  are 
poems  and  essays  to  be  read  aloud.  Come  in,  Messrs. 
Critics;  collect  your  thoughts;  we  have  a  severe  judge 
to-day." 

"Will  you  take  part  in  our  little  college,  Herr  von 
Ottmar  ?" 

"  I  am  very  anxious  to  do  so,"  he  replied. 

"  You  must  have  patience  and  be  indulgent  to  this  kind 
of  entertainment,"  laughed  Cornelia.  "It  is  the  personal 
friendship  that  unites  our  little  circle  which  makes  it 
interesting  to  us,  and  of  course  that  is  a  thing  you  cannot 
yet  share." 

"  You  must  know,"  said  Veronica,  in  a  low  tone,  "  that 
my  darling  child  has  established  among  her  friends  a  sort 
of  nursery,  in  which  she  wishes  to  rear  clearness  of  intel- 
lect and  feeling,  noble  principles,  and  independent  judg- 
ment;  and  the  gentlemen  eagerly  assist  her;  they  are  all 
more  or  less  in  love  with  her.  Every  week  Cornelia  gives 
the  young  girls  a  subject  for  prose  or  poetic  treatment,  or  a 


PROGRESS.  119 

work  to  be  critically  examined.  Whoever  receives  the 
greatest  praise  from  the  majority  obtains  the  prize, — a 
picture  by  some  one  of  the  artists  present,  or  the  dedica- 
tion of  a  song  by  one  of  our  musicians.  The  young 
poets  criticise  the  essays  and  read  their  own  productions 
aloud.  Finally,  the  older  gentlemen  pronounce  their 
ultimatum.  You  will  probably  belong  to  this  last  and 
highest  court  to-day,  though  less  entitled  to  do  so  by  age 
than  intellect." 

"  That  is  a  charming  idea,"  said  Heinrich,  "  and  is  in. 
harmony  with  you  both.  You  thus  give  society  an  intel- 
lectual seasoning  which  it  usually  lacks.  Have  you 
poets  in  your  circle  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  !"  replied  Veronica.  "  Don't  you  know 
our  young  celebrities  ?  See,  that  one  yonder  is  the  tender 

lyric  poet,  D ,  a  sensitive,  foreboding  soul ;  the  stout, 

broad-shouldered  man  is  the  bold,  patriotic  bard,  B ; 

and  the  pale  aristocrat,  with  the  bent  head,  is  the  poet 

T ,  a  very  talented  person.  You  have  surely  heard  of 

the  enthusiastic  reception  of  his  first  tragedy,  I  only  fear 
his  intellect  is  developing  too  rapidly.  Sooner  or  later 
this  premature  growth  will  make  it  sickly,  and  that 
would  be  a  pity.  There  is  splendid  material  in  him, 
which,  by  the  forcing  system  of  our  times,  would  be 
made  to  shoot  upwards  too  quickly  to  form  a  stout, 
healthy  trunk,  from  whence  the  productive  power  is 
always  freshly  supplied.  The  young  man  is  only  twenty- 
four  years  old,  and  his  work  is  already  much  more  massive 
than  Schiller's  first  attempts ;  but  he  accomplishes  a  re- 
markable amount  in  his  department,  and  is  a  noble,  esti- 
mable man.  These  are  the  poor  victims  of  our  times, 
where  the  utmost  is  extorted  from  every  one." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Heinrich.  "  I  am  familiar  with 

young  T 's  work,  and,  like  you,  think  it  unnaturally 

mature  for  his  years.  Schiller  and  Goethe  themselves 
won  their  way  by  degrees  to  what  is  recognized  as  the 
highest  stand-point.  But  our  young  people  want  to  be 
born  upon  this  height  and  begin  where  they  ended.  It 
is  perfectly  comprehensible  that  they  don't  wish  to  remain 
where  they  begin,  but  struggle  on  and  test  the  powers 
of  their  young  intellects,  as  Lessing,  Goethe,  and  Schiller 


120  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

did  when  they  gradually  raised  themselves  above  the 
inferior  performances  and  requirements  of  their  times." 

"That  is  just  what  I  always  say,"  cried  Veronica; 
"  and  this  runs  through  all  circles  of  society.  Our  young 
people  no  longer  have  any  simplicity,  and  I  think  this 
is  the  glass  case  beneath  which  the  young  plants  of  the 
soul  should  grow,  with  all  their  faults  and  excrescences, 
until  they  are  strong  enough  to  bear  without  injury  the 
storms  of  life  and  the  shears  of  negation.  Without  sim- 
plicity there  are  no  illusions,  and  without  illusions  there 
is  no  youth  !  You  will  perhaps  find  here  a  circle  which 
answers  to  my  demand  in  this  respect.  True,  there  are 
only  a  few  poets  of  importance  among  them,  but  these 
compensate  me  for  all  the  famous,  keen,  analytical  minds 
which,  pluck  the  fragrant  rose  to  find  faults  its  calyx 
would  have  concealed,  and  give  us  only  the  purified  but 
empty  branch  of  thorns.  You  see  I  am  not  called  the 
Sensitive  Plant  without  reason." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Heinrich,  with  a  kindly  smile,  "we 
must  learn  from  you  how  to  keep  young  !" 

Meantime  a  reading-table  had  been  placed  in  the  centre 
of  the  room.  With  cheeks  glowing  with  embarrassment, 
a  young  girl  seated  herself  at  it,  cast  a  hasty  glance  at 
Ottmar,  and  read  aloud  from  a  manuscript  an  essay  whose 
subject  and  title  were  the  justification  of  sympathy  in 
opposition  to  the  judgments  of  reason.  It  was  simple, 
but  written  in  a  style  free  from  faults  ;  some  of  the  ideas 
were  not  devoid  of  talent ;  and  it  revealed  a  more  thorough 
culture  than  is  usually  to  be  found  in  young  girls.  Hein- 
rich perceived  Cornelia's  influence.  His  eyes  rested 
steadily  upon  her  ;  she  was  standing  behind  the  reader's 
chair,  and  often  looked  thoughtfully  at  him.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  she  had  given  this  subject  from  a  recollection 
of  him. 

The  following  essays,  which  were  read  aloud  in  turn 
by  the  young  girls,  all  treated  the  same  idea  with  more 
or  less  talent,  and  three  poems  reproduced  it  in  rhyme. 

Heinrich  perceived  with  increasing  admiration  the 
activity  of  the  Prison  Fairy,  whose  strong,  earnest  will 
effected  good  results,  even  under  the  garb  of  jest,  and 
gave  purpose  to  the  most  useless  things. 


PROGRESS.  121 

The  reading  ended,  and  the  gentlemen,  in  mingled  jest 
and  earnest,  gave  a  stern  criticism.  Each  sought  the 
lady  whose  essay  had  made  the  most  impression  upon 
him, — discussed  and  opposed  the  separate  points.  The 
authoresses  were  obliged  to  defend  themselves,  and  thus 
the  argument  continued  till  Cornelia,  who  had  previously 
been  inclosed  in  the  circle,  suddenly  started  up,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  Say  what  you  please  against  sympathy,  it  is  the 
only  true  oracle  among  us  !  If  our  reason  enjoined  upon 
us  ever  so  strictly  to  keep  together  as  we  are  now,  should 
we  not  rush  apart  to  all  quarters  of  the  globe  if  it  were 
not  for  sympathy?  And  if  reason  causes  a  person  to 
appear  ever  so  wicked,  and  sympathy  attracts  us  to  him, 
we  follow  the  latter,  and  often  convince  ourselves  that 
reason,  which  judges  only  by  deceptive  facts,  misled  us. 
Reason  disjoints  and  severs,  sympathy  conciliates.  Rea- 
son calculates,  sympathy  discovers ;  and,  what  is  after 
all  the  principal  thing,  reason  does  not  make  people 
happy, — sympathy  does." 

"  Cornelia,"  cried  the  poet  T ,  "I  have  never  heard 

you  talk  so  before !  What  has  become  of  the  logic,  the 
clearness  of  perception,  with  which  you  gave  these  young 
ladies  the  guiding  threads  for  their  essays  upon  this 
subject  ?" 

"If  we  were  permitted  to  refer  to  this  enthusiasm,  we 

should  be  greatly  delighted,  my  dear  T ;  but  I  fear  it 

is  one  of  her  whims,"  said  H ,  the  novelist. 

The  gentle  poet  D whispered,  softly,  "  I  know  what 

you  mean,  Cornelia,  but  I  no  longer  understand  you." 

"I  understand  you,"  a  voice  which  thrilled  all  the 
chords  in  her  nature  suddenly  murmured  in  her  ear.  "  I 
thank  you,  Prison  Fairy  !"  She  turned  towards  Hew- 
rich  and  looked  up  into  his  face.  She  was  bewilderingly 
beautiful  at  that  moment,  with  the  bold,  noble  profile  half 
turned  towards  him,  the  slender  neck  thrown  back,  the 
full  lips  curved  in  a  smile  which  made  the  small,  white 
teeth  glitter  in  the  light,  and  the  hair  combed  up  to  form 
a  natural  diadem  above  the  thoughtful  brow.  The  float- 
in.!?  folds  of  her  dress,  the  drooping  crimson  flowers, 
which  trembled  at  every  motion,  gave  her  an  ideal,  fairy  - 
like  aspect,  which  was  increased  by  her  dark  eyes.  Those 

F  11 


122  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

eyes  belonged  to  the  class  which,  the  ancient  myth  tells 
us,  had  power  to  turn  to  stone  any  one  on  whom  their 
gaze  rested.  The  large,  sparkling  pupils  allowed  very 
little  of  the  white  of  the  eye  to  be  seen.  They  often 
gleamed  like  two  suns  when  the  long  lashes  were  raised  ; 
and  softly  and  sweetly  as  they  rested  upon  the  object  of 
their  observation,  their  expression  must  be  terrible  in 
nnger.  Ottmar  gazed  at  her  with  increasing  rapture. 
"Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  under  bis  breath,  "that  is  the  Me- 
dusa from  whose  blood  Pegasus  sprang." 

"  How  little  she  knows  herself,  that  she  thinks  I  could 
see  her  without  coveting  her!"  thought  Henri,  making  a 
fresh  effort  to  dislodge  Heinrich ;  but  Heinrich  resisted 
his  attack  with  unaccustomed  strength.  He  gazed  into 
the  depths  of  those  mysterious  eyes ;  and  the  secrets 
which,  unconsciously  to  herself,  slumbered  within  them, 
irresistibly  allured  him. 

"Cornelia,"  said  the  young  girl  who  had  read  the 
first  essay, — and  a  tear  trembled  on  her  lashes, — "  they 
are  looking  for  you." 

Cornelia  looked  up  as  if  aroused  from  a  dream,  threw 
her  arm  around  her  friend's  neck,  and  embraced  her 
warmly.  "  I  thank  you,  Hedwig !"  Then  she  entered 
the  noisy  circle  and  summoned  the  gentlemen  to  select 
the  essay  most  worthy  of  the  prize. 

The  company  voted,  and  the  majority  decided  in  favor 
of  the  first  one  read. 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad,  dear  Hedwig  !"  said  Cornelia,  hastily, 
taking  the  garland  of  fresh  flowers  she  had  woven  for 
the  victor  and  placing  it  upon  her  brow. 

It  was  a  beautiful  sight  as  the  loveliest  maiden  in  the 
throng  adorned  the  diffident  young  girl  and  led  her  tri- 
umphantly into  the  middle  of  the  room.  The  gentlemen 
came  forward,  bringing  the  prize  upon  a  cushion.  Poor 
Hedwig,  who,  in  her  embarrassment,  had  by  no  means 
the  air  of  a  conqueror,  received  the  gift  from  the  hands 

of  the  young  artist  A ,  who  whispered,  gently,  "  I  beg 

you  all  not  to  show  it  to  the  original,  if  it  can  be  avoided. 
I  did  not  know  he  would  be  here." 

The  young  girl  did  not  understand  him,  and  hastily 
raised  the  cover,  but  dropped  it  again  in  terror  when  she 


PROGRESS.  123 

saw  the  sketch,  while  a  burning  blush  overspread  her 
face. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter?"  asked  Cornelia,  taking 
out  the  picture.  "A  study  of  a  head!  Herr  von  Ottmar, 
— a  perfect  likeness  !"  she  exclaimed,  undisturbed  by  the 
young  artist's  embarrassment. 

Heinrich  stepped  forward  and  gazed  in  astonishment 
at  the  successful  portrait. 

"I  must  crave  your  pardon  for  presuming  to  steal  your 
features,  Herr  Geheimrath,"  stammered  the  artist.  "  I 
know  you  are  very  highly  esteemed  in  this  circle,  and  could 
not  refrain  from  robbing  my  portfolio  of  the  picture,  in 
order  to  give  pleasure  to  those  who  assemble  here  ;  other- 
wise this  bold  attempt  of  my  talent  would  have  remained 
entirely  concealed." 

Heinrich  smilingly  listened  to  the  long  apology,  and 
watched,  with  silent  amusement,  an  old  gentleman  stand- 
ing at  some  distance  from  the  artist,  who  was  accompa- 
nying his  speech  with  numerous  bows.  This  gentleman 
was  a  certain  Archivrath  Linderer,  an  old  friend  of  Ve- 
ronica's. The  worthy  man  possessed  such  a  wonderful 
impulse  of  courtesy  that  he  could  not  see  any  one  make  a 
bow  without  mechanically  imitating  him,  and  never  heard 
any  sort  of  speech  without  mentally  making  one  also. 

Heinricli's  inclination  to  laugh  was  so  greatly  aroused 
by  this  sight  that  he  could  scarcely  utter  a  few  reassuring 
words  in  reply  to  the  embarrassed  artist.  He  was  about 
to  go  in  search  of  Yeronica,  to  question  her  about  this 
^comical  man,  when  he  saw  Cornelia,  who  had  been 
gazing  at  the  picture  in  silence,  go  to  a  table  and  take  up 
a  pencil.  He  went  up  and  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at 
the  portrait.  She  cast  a  hasty  look  at  him  and  then 
fixed  her  eyes  upon  the  sketch.  She  felt  his  beard  touch 
her  hair,  and  shrank  back. 

"  Look,  my  dear  A !"  she  exclaimed.  "  Here  are 

only  two  false  strokes  !  When  these  are  altered  the  picture 
will  be  masterly  !  The  lines  just  over  the  eyebrows,  ex- 
pressing penetration,  are  very  strongly  marked  in  Herr 
von  Ottmar,  and  you  have  not  brought  them  out  suffi- 
ciently. The  upper  portion  of  the  brow  is  also  remarka- 
bly expressive  ;  there  must  be  a  shadow  here,  and  here." 


124  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"You  may  be  right,"  said  A ,  looking  at  Ottmar's 

forehead  ;  "  make  the  strokes." 

Cornelia  rapidly  deepened  the  shadows,  and  all  the 
bystanders  exclaimed,  in  astonishment,  "Ah,  that's  it 
exactly  !  One  would  think  you  had  studied  the  head !" 

Cornelia  quietly  compared  the  picture  with  the  original. 
"  It  is  a  noble  work  !  You  have  really  been  carried  away 
by  your  subject !  The  eyes  and  mouth  seem  as  if  they 
were  about  to  speak!" 

"  Your  praise  makes  me  very  proud,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"  And  me !"  whispered  Heinrich,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  May  I  ask  you  to  come  in  to  tea  ?"  cried  Veronica, 
from  the  doorway.  "  If  any  one  of  the  gentlemen  has 
anything  to  read  aloud,  he  must  be  kind  enough  to  defer 
it  until  after  supper.  It  is  already  somewhat  late." 

Heinrich  was  in  the  act  of  offering  Cornelia  his  arm 
when  Veronica  requested  him  to  take  her  to  the  table. 
He  patiently  submitted  to  this  duty,  and  the  ill:assorted 
pair  moved  on  into  the  tea-room  followed  by  the  others. 

Cornelia  and  lledwig  stood  together  a  moment  alone. 
Iledwig  threw  herself  on  her  friend's  breast,  and  ex- 
claimed, in  a  low,  rapid  tone, — 

"  I  will  give  you  the  picture,  Cornelia.  I  don't  want 
it." 

"You  don't  want  it?"  asked  the  latter,  in  astonish- 
ment, 

"  What  should  I  do  with  it  ?  I  think  you  would 
value  it  more,  and  take  more  pleasure  in  it  than  I,"  re- 
plied Hedwig. 

"  But,  Hedwig,  you  were  always  so  enthusiastic  about 
him." 

"  Even  if  I  were,  it  was  all  in  joke.  But  you  know 
and  value  him  in  earnest:  I  saw  that  to-day;  and  if  he 
had  given  the  picture,  he  would  have  bestowed  it  on  no 
one  but  you  ;  so  how  could  I  take  a  thing  to  which  I 
have  no  right?  Keep  it,  I  beg  of  you.  It  is  of  no  value 
to  me." 

"  But  ought  I  to  accept  it  from  you?"  asked  Cornelia. 
"  Shall  I  not  be  robbing  you  ?" 

"  Robbing  me?     I  owe  you  so  much,  and  am  so  poor 


PROGRESS.  125 

in  comparison  with  you,  that  it  will  make  me  rich  if  I 
can  offer  anything  that  will  please  you.  I  would  give 
you  more,  far  more,  if  I  had  it  to  bestow." 

She  pressed  Cornelia  lovingly  to  her  heart,  and  the 
young  girls  were  holding  each  other  in  a  close  embrace 
when  T came  in  search  of  them,  and  Heinrich  ap- 
peared behind  him  in  the  doorway. 

"  Good  heavens  !  Here  they  stand,  kissing  each  other, 
while  we  have  been  waiting  for  them  so  impatiently  1" 
cried  T . 

"  We  humbly  beg  pardon  for  having  had  no  one  to  es- 
cort us  to  the  table,"  laughed  Cornelia.  "  We  were  con- 
soling each  other  for  the  misfortune." 

"  How  malicious  you  are  again !  We  were  so  sure 
that  you  would  be  escorted  to  the  table  by  your  lucky 
He  IT  von  Ottmar  that  we  did  not  even  look  for  you,"  said 
T ,  apologetically. 

"And  you  were  not  mistaken  in  your  belief,  sir,"  said 
Heinrich'q  voice. 

He  went  up  to  Cornelia  and  offered  her  his  arm.    T 

stood  petrified  with  astonishment.  There  was  nothing 
left  for  him  to  do  except  to  turn  to  Hedwig.  Heinrich 
led  Cornelia  to  her  place,  and  then  went  back  to  Vero- 
nica. Cornelia  sat  opposite  to  him,  and  on  his  right  and 
left  hand  were  the  fairest  and  brightest  young  girls  in 
the  whole  circle.  Many  mothers  and  fathers  looked  to- 
wards them  with  almost  imperceptible  hopes,  but  every- 
thing fell  into  the  lap  of  the  one  who  neither  hoped  nor 
desired  anything.  Heinrich1  s  interest  was  centred  in 
Cornelia  alone. 

"You  see,  my  dear  Herr  von  Ottmar,"  Veronica  be- 
gan, "I  have  tried  to  make  amends  to  you  for  being 
obliged  to  take  an  old  lady  to  the  table.  My  most 
charming  young  ladies  are  around  you." 

"  You  would  give  me  far  greater  pleasure  if  you  would 
permit  me  to  spend  my  evenings  with  you  and  your 
adopted  daughter,  for  I  must  confess  that  I  prefer. you  to 
all  other  ladies,  be  they  ever  so  charming,"  he  whispered. 

"Oh,  that  you  shall  certainly  do!"  exclaimed  Ve- 
ronica, in  delight.  "  Come  as  often  as  you  please.  You 
will  be  a  welcome  guest." 

11* 


126  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  I  thank  you,"  replied  Heinrich. 

Meantime,  Cornelia  bad  been  conversing  with  the  ex- 
tremely polite  old  gentleman,  and  Heinrich  now  asked 
who  this  eccentric  person  was. 

With  gay  humor  she  described  his  peculiarities,  and 
in  a  low  tone  related  how,  on  festival  occasions  and  dur- 
ing public  speeches,  he  often  disturbed  the  bystanders 
by  repeating  th$  words  half  under  his  breath,  and  sup- 
plying the  bows  omitted  by  the  orator;  how  he  always 
most  dutifully  repeated  the  last  words  said  to  him ;  how 
he  invariably  removed  his  hat  when  he  saw  two  persons 
salute  each  other  in  the  street,  etc.  etc. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  at  last,  "  I  think  this  proceeds 
from  an  excess  of  benevolence  and  sympathy  !  It  must 
be  the  same  feeling  that  prompts  the  mother  who  hears 
her  daughter  say  a  pretty  thing  to  put  on  precisely  the 
same  expression.  The  mother  enters  into  her  child's 
situation  so  earnestly  that  she  involuntarily  imitates  all 
her  looks  and  gestures ;  nay,  I  once  saw  an  actress,  star- 
ring with  her  daughter,  so  carried  away  by  the  latter's 
playing  that  she  unconsciously  imitated  her  darling,  and 
almost  merged  her  own  part  in  her  child's.  What  is 
this  except  an  excess  of  svmpathy  for  the  beloved 
being?" 

She  then,  in  a  most  masterly  manner,  imitated  the  dif- 
ferent mothers  and  the  tragic  scene  of  the  two  ladies 
upon  the  stage,  so  that  those  around  burst  into  shouts  of 
laughter. 

Yet  the  gayer  the  others  became  the  more  serious 
Heinrich  looked :  and  she  asked,  with  mingled  surprise 
and  anxiety,  why  they  all  had  so  little  success  in  amusing 
him. 

"  Ob,  you  do  not  know  how  happy  I  am  !"  he  replied  ; 
"but  I  am  reflecting  about  something.  I  see  you  develop 
so  many  different  traits  and  talents  that  I  am  bewildered. 
When  I  have  at  last  succeeded  in  harmonizing  one  of 
your  changeful  moods  with  your  whole  character,  before 
1  am  aware  of  it  a  new  picture  appears  before  me,  which 
I  must  again  incorporate  with  the  whole.  You  keep  me 
in  a  perpetual  mental  excitement,  and  it  seems  as  if  I 
were  compelled  to  sketch  the  different  waves  upon  tho 


PROGRESS.  127 

sea-shore.  Scarcely  have  I  fixed  my  eyes  upon  one  ere 
it  is  already  swallowed  up  in  another,  and  I  am  con- 
stantly raising  my  eyes  again  to  sketch  the  whole  as  it 
spreads  before  me  in  its  infinite  majesty." 

He  gazed  at  her  with  so  strange  an  expression  that 
she  looked  down  as  if  dazzled. 

"Oh,  what  are  you  making  me?"  she  said,  in  confu- 
sion. "  I  am  a  very  simple  person,  who  am  merry  with 
the  mirthful  and  serious  with  the  grave.  If  I  am  differ- 
ent from  others  in  any  way  it  is  because  I  am  always 
natural.  Thousands  feel  as  keenly,  change  their  moods 
as  frequently,  as  I ;  but  it  is  not  noticed  in  them,  because 
they  have  accustomed  themselves  to  a  uniform  etiquette, 
an  unvarying  manner.  I  have  often  envied  such  persons, 
for  they  know  -how  to  give  themselves  the  stamp  of  a 
finished  individuality  far  better  than  natures  like  mine, 
which  are  sometimes  thought  gay,  sometimes  melancholy, 
now  good  and  then  bad.  or  not  at  all  what  they  seem, 
which  are  sometimes  too  little,  sometimes  too  much, 
trusted,  and  rarely  or  never  understood." 

"  Oh,  Cornelia!"  cried  one  of  the  guests,  the  famous 

actor  N" ,  across  the  table.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say 

that  we  don't  understand  you  ?" 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  I'eplied  Cornelia.  "  I  had  prin- 
cipally in  view  those  whom  I  consider  different  from  my- 
self. You  understand  me  because  you  resemble  me,  and 
are  all,  more  or  less,  artist  natures  !" 

"  Do  you  mean  that  all  artist  natures  are  as  truthful 
as  yourself  ?"  asked  Heinrich,  doubtfully. 

"  Certainly ;  when  I  trust  a  man  it  is  the  artist,  es- 
pecially those  who  represent  things." 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  upon  what  you  found  that 
idea,"  murmured  Heinrich,  in  a  low  tone.  "  The  actor 
certainly  practices  dissimulation  as  bis  profession." 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  that !  You  will  surely  admit  that  in 
every  man  there  is  an  impulse  towards  truth  and  false- 
hood, as  well  as  good  and  evil,"  began  Cornelia.  "  With 
almost  all  persons  this  impulse,  like  their  other  good  and 
bad  qualities,  exerts  an  influence  upon  their  lives;  they 
lie  and  deceive  in  personal  intercourse.  But  there  are  ex- 
ceptions, among  those  in  whom  this  propensity  to  deceive 


128  4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

is  decomposed  by  Heaven  knows  what  process  of  intel- 
lectual chemistry,  and  becomes  objective ;  that  is,  forms  a 
power  of  acting  entirely  apart  from  the  subject.  This 
power  seeks  an  independent  form,  and  finds  it  in  art, 
wherein  it  develops  the  highest,. most  artistic  structure, 
and  those  in  whom  such  a  process  has  been  completed  are 
artists,  especially  actors.  Then  if  the  commonplace  man 
can  satisfy  that  strange  and  undeniable  propensity  towards 
falsehood  only  in  real  life,  in  the  actor  it  is  to  a  certain 
extent  guided  into  a  higher,  loftier  region,  and  he  becomes 
in  reality  truer  and  more  natural  than  many  who  are 
only  considered  honest  because  they  are  too  awkward  to 
feign." 

"  Your  explanation  is  logical,"  replied  Heinrich,  "  but 
you  cannot  carry  it  into  practical  execution.  Opportunity 
makes  thieves,  a  capability  for  falsehood  tempts  to  false- 
hood. Even  the  actor  will  not  disdain  to  obtain  an 
advantage  at  the  expense  of  truth,  and  the  temptation  is 
all  the  greater  the  more  he  is  convinced  that  the  decep- 
tion will  be  successful.  Nay,  I  can  even  imagine  that 
there  must  be  a  charm  to  him  in  making  use  of  his  his- 
trionic skill,  not  only  upon  the  stage,  but  off  the  boards, 
and  I  have  seen  celebrated  actors  who  could  not  help 
perpetually  performing  a  part." 

Cornelia  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  said,  calmly: 
"  There  are  such  instances,  of  course,  but  I  do  not  call 
such  people  artists  ;  there  are  two  distinct  classes  of  men 
who  bear  that  name.  If  this  talent  we  have  just  men- 
tioned is  coupled  with  more  or  less  mental  capacity,  the 
union  produces  more  or  less  brilliant  performers ;  if, 
however,  there  is  a  counterpoise  of  the  great  qualities 
of  the  soul  and  heart,  it  produces  arlixts.  The  performer, 
it  is  true,  employs  the  talents  at  his  command  in  life  as 
well  as  in  art ;  he  knows  no  higher  object  than  effect. 
He  deceives  in  life  as  well  as  in  art  when  it  will  make  an 
effect,  and  in  both  is  true  to  the  same  purpose.  As  lie 
has  neither  character  nor  heart,  he  is  neither  good  nor 
bad  upon  principle ;  he  .simply  turns  his  talents  to  his 
own  profit  where  and  as  he  can.  It  is  this  class  of  peo- 
ple who  have  in  many  respects  degraded  the  position  of 
artists.  The  artist,  on  the  contrary,  perceives  and  seeks 


PROGRESS.  129 

something  far  higher  than  effect !  Like  all  men  of  noble 
aims,  he,  too,  has  an  ideal  towards  which  he  unselfishly 
struggles — truth.  If  he  seeks  this  in  his  art,  often  even 
at  the  expense  of  the  applause  so  indispensable  to  the 
actor,  if  he  is  so  conscientious  in  the  realm  of  illusion,  why 
should  he  not  be  equally  so  in  the  domain  of  reality  ? 
The  power  of  transforming  his  whole  nature  at  will  he 
considers  as  a  gift  bestowed  to  serve  the  holy  purpose  of 
art,  and  would  no  more  turn  it  to  his  own  advantage 
than  the  honorable  citizen  would  obtain  an  illegal  profit 
from  an  accidental  or  fairly  won  supremacy  over  others. 
A  keener,  more  active,  sensitive  faculty,  and  the  habit  of 
an  elevated  manner  of  expression,  may  give  him  a  peculiar, 
'exaggerated,'  perhaps  '  affected'  appearance, — words  with 
which  the  commonplace  man  so  eagerly  points  out  what 
he  does  not  understand  ;  but  you  will  acknowledge  that 
a  person  may  be  affected  and  yet  possess  true,  genuine 
feelings;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  the  falsest  and  most  de- 
signing men  often  appear  the  most  artless." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Heinrich. 

"You  see,"  continued  Cornelia,  "that  as  from  the 
worst  and  most  different  materials  the  brightest,  purest 
flame  can  be  produced,  so  art  transfigures  deception  with 
the  highest  manifestations.  Thus  in  real  artists  false- 
hood aspires  towards  truth  !  The  highest  object  of  his 
performance  is  the  union  of  both,  and  the  triumph  of 
falsehood  becomes  in  him  a  triumph  of  truth  !" 

Cornelia  glanced  gayly  upwards  towards  the  jets  of  gas 
in  the  chandelier.  In  her  enthusiastic  defense  she  had  in- 
voluntarily raised  her  voice,  and  did  not  notice  that  every 
one  was  looking  at  her.  When  she  paused,  all  shouted  a 
hearty  bravo.  Heinrich  sat  motionless,  with  his  head 
resting  on  his  hand,  gazing  earnestly  at  her ;  he  could 
not  smile  and  applaud  with  the  others, — he  was  asking 
himself,  "  Do  I  deserve  this  woman  ?" 

The  supper  was  over  ;  he  started  up  and  approached 
her  as  the  company  prepared  to  take  leave.  "  Cornelia, 
Prison  Fairy,  you  have  opened  a  new  world  to  me.  My 
mind  is  so  full  of  all  I  have  heard  from  you  that  I  can- 
not speak.  Only  tell  me  whether  I  may  come  again  to- 
morrow ?" 


130  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Certainly,  Herr  Baron." 

"Oh,  do  not  be  so  formal,  Prison  Fairy  !  Let  me  hear 
my  name  from  your  lips  as  you  bid  me  farewell,  that  I 
may  hold  it  dearer ;  or  my  baptismal  name.  Ah,  Cornelia, 
I  should  like  to  hear  how  it  sounded  if  you  would  say 
'  Good-night,  Heinrieh.'" 

"  No,  Herr  von  Ottmar,  I  cannot ;  you  are  still  too 
great  a  stranger." 

Heinrich  bit  his  lips  as  if  deeply  abashed,  and  said, 
with  alow  bow,  "  Pardon  me,  Friiulein,  I  was  indiscreet." 

Cornelia  held  out  her  hand  and  looked  at  him  with  all 
her  winning  charm  of  manner.  "  No,  no,  Herr  von  Ott- 
mar, I  did  not  wish  to  cause  you  pain.  I  promise  you 
that  ere  I  sleep  I  will  say  in  thought,  '  Good-night,  Heiu- 
rich  !'  Does  that  satisfy  you  ?" 

Heinrich  kissed  her  band  in  a  transport  of  delight. 
"  Thanks,  lovely  creature !  And  now  good-night,  my 
fairy;  send  me  a  pleasant  dream." 

Veronica  approached  :  he  took  leave  of  her  ;  the  depart- 
ing guests  pressed  him  back,  and,  waving  a  farewell  to 
Cornelia,  he  left  the  house.  When  he  reached  the  street 
he  raised  his  hat  from  his  head  to  allow  the  night  wind 
to  cool  his  burning  brow;  and  now  he  was  Henri  again, 
for  he  knew  he  was  expected  by  a  beautiful  woman  who 
had  followed  him  home  from  his  last  journey,  and  hitherto 
held  his  senses  in  her  chains.  He  mechanically  obeyed 
the  force  of  old  habit  and  turned  his  steps  towards  her 
residence.  But  when  he  stood  before  the  house  behind 
whose  lighted  windows  the  glittering  daughter  of  sin 
awaited  him  in  dreams  heavy  with  forebodings,  a  strange, 
incomprehensible  feeling  overpowered  him.  Cornelia's 
pure,  wonderful  charms  appeared  so  vividly  before  his 
boul  that  he  turned  with  repugnance  from  the  desecrated 
image  that  allured  him.  He  perceived  that  no  one 
had  any  power  of  attraction  except  Cornelia,  and  that 
nothing  could  satisfy  his  longing  for  her.  He  went 
home,  and  that  very  night  wrote  a  farewell  letter  to  his 
purchased  love,  and  freed  himself  from  his  unworthy 
chains. 

A  ray  of  light  fell  through  the  heavy  silken  curtains 


PROGRESS.  131 

of  Veronica's  bed,  and  waked  the  sleeper.  She  looked 
around  and  saw  Cornelia,  who,  with  a  lamp  in  her  hand, 
was  noiselessly  gliding  through  the  chamber  towards  the 
door  of  the  salon.  "  What  do  you  want  there,  child  ?" 
asked  Veronica;  "why  are  you  still  dressed?  I  had 
already  fallen  asleep." 

Cornelia  started.  "  I  forgot  something,"  she  replied, 
and  slipped  out  of  the  room.  When  she  returned  through 
Veronica's  chamber  she  carried  a  portfolio  in  her  hand. 

"  What  have  you  there?"  asked  Veronica. 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  me  for  waking  you,  dear,"  said 
Cornelia,  kissing  the  white,  aged  brow,  "I  only  wanted 
to  read  Hedwig's  essay  again  ;  it  was  left  in  the  parlor." 

When  she  had  closed  the  door  of  her  pleasant  bed- 
room behind  her,  she  took  Ottmar's  portrait  from  the 
portfolio,  placed  it  on  a  reading-desk,  sat  down  before  it, 
and,  shielding  her  eyes  with  both  hands,  rested  her  arms 
on  the  table,  and  became  absorbed  in  studying  the  mys- 
terious head.  The  more  she  looked  at  it  the  more  beau- 
tiful she  found  it.  "How  simple  those  lines  are,  and  yet 
how  rich,  how  infinitely  expressive !  Oh,  who  could 
decipher  the  mute  language  of  that  ardent  mouth,  whose 
kiss  still  burns  upon  my  hand  ?  How  can  people  kiss  so 
with  such  delicate  lips  ?  It  is  not  the  lips  that  kiss,  it 
is  his  heart,  which  lies  between  them  ;  that  is  why  his 
caress  is  so  soft,  so  warm  ;  that  is  why  it  penetrates  to 
the  inmost  soul.  And  when  he  speaks  they  are  again 
only  the  beautiful,  slender  banks  over  which  the  flood  of 
feeling  streams!  And  those  eyes, — oh,  they  reveal  all 
the  wonders  of  the  soul!  He  might  err,  nay,  he  might 
even  be  shattered  by  life,  but  the  look  that  shines  in  his 
eyes  is  divine  ;  it  will  raise  him  above  his  lower  nature, 
and  everything  else.  And  I, — I  will  aid  him  ;  I  will  join 
the  good  genius  that  floats  above  the  darkness  of  his 
soul  like  the  Spirit  of  God  over  chaos,  and  teach  him  to 
perceive  his  own  greatness,  his  ideal  strength." 

She  sat  long,  absorbed  in  thought;  but,  by  degrees,  it 
seemed  as  if  the  pictured  head  moved  to  and  fro,  the  eyes 
turned,  the  lips  parted  and  closed  again.  She  gazed  and 
made  the  light  burn  brighter ;  in  vain.  Nature  asserted 
her  rights,  sleep  was  casting  her  deceptive  veil  over  her 


132  A    TWOFOLD   IJFK. 

weary  head.  She  rose,  removed  the  flowers  from  her 
hair,  and  released  her  lovely  form  from  its  clinging 
drapery.  Agaiu  and  again  her  eyes  rested  upon  the 
drawing.  She  paused.  "  How  you  look  at  me,  as  if  you 
were  alive!  as  if  I  ought  to  be  confused  !  Stop,  wait  ! 
You  shall  not  see  me  undress."  So  saying,  she  hastily 
placed  the  picture  in  the  writing-table,  went  to  bed, 
extinguished  the  light,  and  nestled  comfortably  among 
the  pillows.  "Good-night,  Heinrich." 


XI. 

A  NEW  LIFE. 

AFTER  Henri  had  written  his  letter,  the  exhausted 
body  imperiously  demanded  rest,  and  while  it  slept  Hein- 
rich hastened  to  Cornelia  and  hovered  round  her  slum- 
bering soul  as  if  it  were  the  petals  of  a  folded  rosebud. 
She  did  not  know,  but  she  suspected  it;  the  magic  of  the 
soul  revealed  his  presence,  and  she  felt  his  spiritual  kiss. 

When  Ottmar  awoke  the  following  morning  he  thought 
he  had  not  slept  well,  and  had  been  dreaming  a  great 
deal  of  the  Prison  Fairy.  Yet  neither  had  been  dream- 
ing ;  although  their  bodies  slept,  their  souls  were  together. 
Heinrich  remained  in  bed  some  time.  He  was  in  the 
best  of  humors,  and  compared  this  awakening  with  the 
one  six  years  before,  when  he  had  resolved  to  yield  to 
the  power  of  the  Jesuits.  At  that  time  he  was  in  the 
act  of  beginning  a  new  but  worse  life,  as  to-day  he  had 
awakened  to  a  new  and  better  one.  He  thought  of  Cor- 
nelia with  grateful  reverence.  Through  her  he  obtained 
a  peace  of  which  he  had  long  been  deprived ;  for,  while 
in  himself  there  was  naught  save  opposition  and  contrast, 
in  her  he  found  the  complement  of  his  nature  and  the  full 
satisfaction  of  homogeneousness.  Thus  Heinrich  already 
preferred  to  dwell  upon  her  harmonious  character  rather 
than  the  struggles  in  his  own  breast,  and  this  was  one 
step,  though  scarcely  perceptible,  towards  liberation  from 


A    NEW  LIFE.  133 

the  egotism  that  was  constantly  throwing  him  back  upon 
himself.  Even  Henri,  the  night  before,  had  rejected  the 
pleasure  of  the  moment,  and  yielded  to  an  ardent  love 
for  an  object  he  could  never  expect  to  obtain  in  his  way. 
Even  in  this  hopeless  submission  there  was  a  slight  con- 
test with  his  usual  selfish  pursuit  of  pleasure.  It  was 
with  a  certain  feeling  of  abhorrence  that  he  compared 
the  base  passions  of  the  past  with  his  longing  for  Cor- 
nelia's intellectual  charms,  and  fell  into  this  temporary 
self-sacrifice.  Thus  egotism  sooner  or  later  defeats  itself. 
The  true  egotist  ends  with  a  feeling  of  loathing  and  dis- 
gust, not  only  towards  the  world,  but  himself.  Unmis- 
takable tokens  of  this  state  were  already  visible  both  in 
Heinrich  and  Henri ;  but,  fortunately  for  him,  he  was 
at  an  age  when  fresh  buds  can  shoot  forth  and  supply 
the  places  of  those  that  are  dead.  These  germs  now 
began  to  stir  with  life.  Intellect  and  feeling,  with  equal 
power,  drew  Heinrich  and  Henri  towards  a  being  whose 
bodily  and  mental  gifts  were  equal.  In  this  the  two 
extremes  already  began  to  approach;  but  they  did  not 
yet  understand  each  other,  and  their  meeting  must  still 
produce  conflict  instead  of  reconciliation. 

Ottmar  lay  for  a  long  time  absorbed  in  meditations 
upon  his  strange  twofold  nature.  A  servant  entered  to 
wake  him.  He  remembered  how  he  had  expected  old 
Anton  to  come  in  that  morning,  and,  for  the  first  time,  a. 
strange  face  appeared  instead.  "Good  old  Anton,  no 
doubt  he  was  right,"  thought  Heinrich;  "and  how 
shamefully  he  was  treated !  Now  he  would  certainly 
have  no  occasion  to  be  angry  about  such  faults.  He  was 
the  best  servant  I  ever  had.  I  will  take  him  back 
again."  He  rose,  ordered  a  message  to  be  sent  to  the 
inn  for  old  Anton,  and  sat  down  to  write  to  Cornelia. 

"Her  name  is  Erwing,"said  he;  "that  is  the  name  of 
the  famous  democrat.  Can  she  be  his  daughter  ?  If  so, 
she  can  scarcely  have  known  her  father,  for  Erwing  must 
have  fled  from  North  Germany  to  America  at  least  twenty 
years  ago.  It  must  be  so.  That  is  why  she  concealed 
her  name  in  the  prison;  she  probably  knew  it  would  be  no 
letter  of  recommendation.  That  accounts  for  her  relations 
with  Reiuhold,  too.  It  is  decidedly  unpleasant!  I  shall 

12 


134  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

not  get  much  honor  at  court  by  the  acquaintance.  But  it 
need  never  be  known  there.  It  is  winter,  night  shuts  in 
at  four  o'clock ;  I  shall  only  go  to  her  house  in  the  even- 
ing, so  the  whole  affair  can  be  concealed  from  the  eyes 
of  the  jeering  aristocracy.  My  occasional  appearance  in 
literary  circles  will  not  be  misconstrued,  as  I  have  the 
reputation  of  unusual  erudition."  He  began  to  write : 
"Cornelia!"  He  paused.  "Cornelia!  It  was  a  lofty 
spirit  that  gave  her  this  proud  name  ;  is  she  a  true  child 
of  this  spirit?  I  almost  believe  it.  That  she  glides  into 
the  cells  of  the  lowest  criminals  does  not  spring  from 
humility, — it  is  the  defiance  of  compassion  against  the 
harshness  of  force,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  joy-giving 
power  of  her  own  individuality.  Woe  to  him  who  ventured 
to  wound  her  pride!  He  would  have  lost  her." 

Just  at  that  moment  Anton  was  announced.  He  threw 
aside  his  pen  and  went  forward  to  meet  him.  It  seemed, 
as  be  rejoiced  over  the  return  of  the  old  servant,  as  if 
some  kind  of  companionship  was  now  a  necessity. 

"Welcome,  faithful  companion  of  my  past!"  he  cried. 
"  Will  you  share  my  future  ?" 

"I  don't  come  to  force  myself  upon  you  as  a  servant, 
Herr  Baron,"  said  Anton,  whose  voice  trembled  with 
emotion,  "  but  I  must  give  you  one  parting  hint  before 
my  return, — it  seems  to  be  intended  that  I  am  to  keep 
watch  for  you." 

"Well?" 

"  Your  beautiful  estates  at  H ,  Herr  Baron,  really 

need  your  oversight  again.  The  steward  and  inspector 
are  both  in  league  to  let  everything  go  to  ruin  and  fill 
their  own  pockets." 

"  What,  what !  How  do  you  know  that  ?  Do  you  know 
that  during  the  last  few  years  my  income  from  the  estates 
has  lessened  so  materially  that  it  has  caused  me  serious 
anxiety,  and  were  it  not  for  my  salary  I  should  find  it 
difficult  to  live  ?" 

"A  proof  that  I  speak  the  truth.  On  ray  way  here  I 
passed  by  Ottmarsfeld,  and  a  secret  impulse  led  me  into 
the  old  castle  and  the  gardens  where  I  saw  you,  Herr 
Baron,  grow  to  manhood.  But  it  caused  me  real  sorrow 
to  see  how  everything  had  changed  for  the  worse.  The 


A  NEW  LIFE.  135 

stately  castle  is  out  of  repair  in  many  places,  the  gardens 
have  run  wild,  and  the  cattle  are  miserable  beasts.  There 
are  only  fifteen  day-laborers  on  the  estate,  and  they  are 
lazy  and  carelessly  watched." 

"  That  is  certainly  shameful !"  cried  Heinrich.  "  The 
inspector  has  put  down  thirty  day-laborers  to  my  account 
every  year,  and  charged  me  many  hundreds  for  repairs  on 
the  buildings." 

"You  will  convince  yourself  that  you  have  been  de- 
ceived, and  your  splendid  property  must  soon  be  ruined 
if  matters  go  on  in  this  way,"  said  Anton. 

Heinrich  paced  thoughtfully  up  and  down  the  room, 
then  turned  to  Anton  and  held  out  his  hand.  "  You  are 
the  most  faithful  soul  that  I  have  in  the  world.  Anton, 
you  must  enter  my  service  again ;  surely  you  cannot  yet 
live  without  me." 

"  You  know  why  I  left  you,  Herr  Baron,"  he  answered. 

"I  know,"  cried  Heinrich,  laughing;  "but  I  don't 
think  you  will  have  any  further  occasion  to  fear  similar 
cases.  I  am  not  quite  so  bad  as  you  think,  and  have  be- 
come much  more  steady  of  late." 

"  Oh,  I  can  never  think  my  own  dear  master  wicked!" 
said  Anton,  deeply  touched.  "  But  what  suits  you — is 
not  quite  so  proper  for  me.  It  may  be  perfectly  natural 
for  an  aristocratic  young  gentleman  to  follow  the  inclina- 
tions of  his  heart,  while  it  would  be  wrong  for  a  sedate 
old  man  to  lend  his  assistance  to  things  which  went 
against  his  conscience.  So  I  might  be  placed  in  a  position 
where  I  should  be  compelled  to  disobey  you,  and  then 
you  would  only  send  me  away  again.  Let  me  go  home, 
— I  cannot  promise  unconditional  obedience." 

"  And  you  need  not,  Anton,"  said  Heinrich,  gravely. 
"  I  do  not  wish  to  make  a  mere  machine  of  you  ;  I  will 
compel  you  to  do  nothing  that  is  against  your  principles, 
and  you  shall  even  tell  me  your  opinion  as  much  as  you 
please,  if  it  should  ever  prove  necessary.  It  is  tiresome 
for  a  man  to  have  no  one  to  quarrel  with  except  himself. 
I  have  blessed  you  a  thousand  times  during  the  last  few 
weeks  for  having  had  the  boldness  to  baffle  my  wishes, 
and  therefore  in  atonement  I  will  assure  you  an  inalien- 
able asylum  with  me  as  long  as  you  live.  Can  I  do  more  ?" 


136  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

'Oh,  my  dear,  kind  master!"  cried  Anton,  kissing 
Heinrich's  hands  with  a  flood  of  jo}rful  tears.  "  After  <u«-ii 
generosity  it  is  surely  my  duty  to  devote  all  the  rest  of 
my  life  to  you,  and  serve  you  in  all  honesty  as  long  as  I 
can.  Ah,  I  really  believe  you  are  going  to  be  the  dear 
, little  master  I  had  thirty  years  ago!" 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Albert,  who 
looked  paler  and  graver  than  Ottmar  had  expected. 

"  Well,"  asked  Heinrich,  "  have  you  slept  off  your  first 
intoxication  of  joy,  and  do  you  now  feel  somewhat  de- 
pressed ?" 

"Yes,  dear  Herr  Baron,"  replied  Albert.  "It  is 
strange  :  yesterday  I  felt  nothing,  thought  of  nothing, 
except  that  I  was  free ;  to-day  I  already  perceive  the 
necessity  for  me  to  act,  and  as  the  prison  was  formerly 
too  narrow,  the  world  is  now  too  wide  for  me.  I  totter 
and  know  not  where  I  can  obtain  support.  Yesterday  I 
only  felt  that  the  dungeon  had  cast  me  out;  to-day  I  feel 
that  life  has  not  yet  received  me,  and  seem  so  helpless 
that  I  could  weep  like  a  lost  child." 

"I  understand  that,  Albert.  You  cannot  yet  feel  at 
ease  in  your  new  position.  Your  strength  of  will  has 
been  asleep  during  your  five  years'  imprisonment,  and 
now,  when  you  need  it,  refuses  to  obey  your  bidding. 
This,  as  a  matter  of  course,  makes  you  anxious;  but  it  is 
ungrateful  to  consider  yourself  deserted.  Can  a  man 
receive  more  abundant  assistance  than  you  have  had 
from  me?" 

"Ob,  my  noble,  generous  patron,  my  whole  life  belongs 
to  you  !  How  can  you  believe  me  ungrateful  ?  I  bless  you 
with  every  breath  of  God's  free  air  I  take.  But  ought  I  to 
eat  the  bread  of  charity  in  your  house,  even  if  you  wished 
it  ?  Must  I  not  go  out  into  the  world  and  earn  some- 
thing, that  I  may  at  last  make  a  home  for  the  unhappy 
girl  who  has  suffered  and  atoned  so  truly?  But  what  am 
I  to  do  ?  I  can  accomplish  so  little,  my  superficial 
knowledge  makes  me  so  dependent.  Who  will  trust  the 
murderer  ?" 

"Any  one  who  knows  you,  Albert,"  said  Heinrich, 
kindly. 

Albert's  frank    brown  eyes  gazed  at  him  doubtfully. 


A   NEW  LIFE.  137 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Ah,  when  I  was  in  prison,  among 
the  criminals  whose  fate  I  unjustly  shared,  I  seemed  like 
a  saint ;  but  now  I  am  free  and  in  the  society  of  irre- 
proachable men,  I  feel  for  the  first  time  like  a  criminal, 
and  scarely  venture  to  raise  my  shame-dyed  face." 

"  Albert,  in  spite  of  your  error,  you  are  a  man  of  more 
delicate  and  noble  feelings  than  millions  of  the  irreproach- 
able citizens  who  pride  themselves  upon  their  phlegmatic 
honesty.  That  is  why  there  are  so  few  who  understand 
you  well  enough  to  disregard  your  past  as  I  do.  I  will 
take  you  henceforth  into  my  employment.  Will  you 
undertake  to  become  my  steward  ?" 

"  The  steward  of  your  estates?"  asked  Albert,  in  joyful 
astonishment. 

"  Yes  ;  I  know  you  studied  agriculture  with  a  land- 
owner in  V before  you  turned  to  the  career  of  a 

priest,  and  came  to  the  college.  However,  if  you  did  not 
learn  enough  there,  I  will  send  you  to  the  agricultural 

school  at  C for  six  mouths  to  perfect  your  education  ; 

and  then  I  think  you  will  become  a  faithful  manager  of 
my  property.  You  can  marry  your  Rb'schen;  and  the 
steward's  house  is  so  large  that  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years  you  can  tell  a  number  of  children  the  story  of  the 
Prison  Fairy." 

A  deep  blush  suffused  Albert's  face,  and  he  clasped  his 
hands  with  an  involuntary  sigh.  "  Oh,  the  Prison  Fairy, 
Herr  Baron  1  You  and  the  Prison  Fairy  are  the  noblest 
human  beings  the  Lord  ever  made!  What  shall  I  say  to 
you  ?  I  can  give  you  no  better  thanks  than  the  wish 
that  destiny  may  unite  you  !"  With  these  words  he 
hurried  from  the  room. 

Heinrich  gazed  after  him  for  a  long  time  in  silence. 
"  So  that  is  the  greatest  blessing  you  can  desire  for  me  ? 
Poor  fellow  !  You  too,  without  knowing  it,  love  the  Prison 
Fairy.  It  is  because  you  must  be  deprived  of  her  that 
freedom  itself  seems  cold  and  barren  ;  and  yet  she  is  so 
far  above  you  that  you  do  not  venture  to  raise  your  eyes 
towards  her.  To  me  alone  you  will  not  grudge  her, 
whom  you  consider  the  essence  of  everything  admirable. 
And  I  ?  Does  not  the  blood  mount  into  my  cheeks  when 
I  think  how  little  I  deserve  what  you  wish  me;  and  how, 

12* 


138  ^    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

like  a  thief,  I  steal  the  semblance  of  virtues  I   do  not 


Veronica  and  Cornelia  were  sitting  in  their  little  tea- 
room, engaged  in  needle-work.  "  Cornelia,  you  sew  very 
little,  and  talk  still  less,"  said  Veronica  to  the  young 
girl,  who  was  sitting  silent  and  motionless,  gazing  at  the 
green  shade  that  covered  the  lamp. 

"I  can  neither  sew  nor  talk  :  I  am  thinking  of  Ottmar," 
she  answered,  frankly.  "  Is  not  such  a  soul,  which  ap- 
proaches ours  for  the  first  time  and  opens  a  new  world  to 
us,  worthy  of  being  received  with  quiet  solemnity?  Are 
we  to  rest  on  that  day  which  commemorates  a  miracle 
that  happened  long  ago  and  has  never  been  fully  proved? 
and  when  the  Deity  reveals  one  of  its  greatest  wonders  to 
our  eyes,  ought  we  to  grudge  our  souls  a  time  of  sabbath 
repose  in  which  to  receive  this  lofty  guest?  You  m-ust 
not  reproach  me  if,  under  this  impression,  I  speud  a  few 
days  longer  in  idle  dreams.  It  is  my  nature!" 

"You  are  just  what  I  wish  to  see  you,  my  Cornelia. 
God  grant  that  you  may  remain  so !  Give  yourself  up  to 
your  own  thoughts  undisturbed.  Put  aside  your  work 
and  remain  silent.  People  do  not  hold  communion  with 
each  other  only  when  they  talk." 

Another  pause  followed,  and  nothing  was  to  be  beard 
except  the  clicking  of  Veronica's  knitting-needles.  But 
the  old  lady  was  not  silent  long.  "  You  have  a  deep  mind, 
Cornelia :  I  could  not  reflect  so  long  upon  any  subject ;  and 
in  spite  of  my  years  I  enjoy  life  more  unquestioningly  than 
you.  What  approaches  me  lovingly  I  believe  in,  and  when 
I  trust  I  enter  into  no  subtle  inquiries." 

Cornelia  smiled  but  made  no  reply,  for  these  words 
showed  her  that  Veronica  only  partiaMy  understood  her 
mood ;  and  she  did  not  feel  disposed  to  disclose  her  feel- 
ings any  further,  though  she  could  not  have  given  a 
reason  for  it  even  to  herself.  Her  large  eyes  rested 
affectionately  upon  the  old  lady,  and  she  merely  asked, 
"  Dear  Veronica,  are  people  investigating  a  subject  when 
they  are  silently  enjoying  it?" 

"  Make  the  tea,  rny  little  angel,"  said  Veronica ;  "  the 
organ  will  suit  your  solemn  mood." 


A    NEW  LIFE.  139 

Cornelia  arranged  the  tea-table,  lighted  the  wick  under 
au  old-fashioned  silver  tea-kettle,  and  then  satdown  tolisten 
to  the  charming1  music  that  instantly  became  audible.  At 
first  one  could  only  distinguish  the  different  tones  of  boiling 
water,  but  by  degrees  they  became  more  melodious,  and 
blended  together  not  into  a  confused  bubbling,  but  the  notes 
of  the  choral  song,  "Blick  bin  nach  Golgotha  !"  It  was  a 
wonderfully  artistic  plaything,  concealed  in  the  lid,  and 
set  in  motion  by  a  glass  roller,  by  the  pressure  of  steam; 
The  tones  of  course  were  louder  or  fainter  as  the  water 
boiled  more  or  less  violently,  and  thus  the  whole  sounded 
like  the  singing  of  a  tea  kettle,  transformed  into  melody 
by  some  invisible  fairy. 

This  tender,  mysterious  music  did  indeed  harmonize 
with  Cornelia's  mood,  and  she  looked  up  as  if  roused  from 
a  dream  when  the  stiff,  precise  old  servant  entered,  and, 
with  a  doubtful  mien,  said  that  Herr  von  Ottrnar  wished 
to  see  the  ladies. 

"  He  is  very  welcome,"  said  Veronica,  joyfully  ;  and 
the  old  man,  casting  a  sullen  glance  at  Cornelia's  blush- 
ing face,  opened  the  door. 

Heinrich  entered.  He  apologized  for  the  late  hour  of 
his  visit  by  saying  that  he  had  received  a  note  from  the 
prince,  directing  him  to  prepare  for  a  journey,  and  expect 
further  orders  the  following  day.  Thus  it  might  happen 
that  he  would  be  compelled  to  set  out  at  once  without 
having  any  time  for  farewells. 

Veronica  assured  him  that  no  apology  was  necessary, 
and  begged  him  to  take  tea  with  them.  The  old  servant, 
to  his  great  disgust,  was  ordered  to  bring  another  plate, 
and  sternly  placed  a  chair  for  Heinrich  beside  Veronica, 
pressing  it  violently  on  the  floor,  as  if  he  would  like  to 
make  it  grow  there  ;  but  Heinrich  involuntarily  pushed 
it  towards  Cornelia,  and  the  old  man  withdrew,  shaking 
his  head. 

Cornelia  said  nothing,  and  Heinrich  looked  at  her 
inquiringly.  In  the  silence  that  followed  he  noticed  the 
singing  of  the  tea-kettle. 

"  What  strange  little  organ  have  you  there  ?"  he  asked, 
in  surprise. 

"It  is  a  relic  of  my  sentimental   youth,"  replied  Ve- 


140  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

ronica,  "  and  is  really  closely  connected  with  a  portion 
of  my  life." 

"  Why,  that  is  very  interesting!  What  air  is  it  play- 
ing ?" 

"  A  choral  I  often  sang  in  my  young  days.  Tell  Herr 
von  Ottmar  the  words,  Cornelia,  or  he  will  think  you 
have  forgotten  how  to  speak." 

Cornelia  repeated  the  well-known  strophe  : 

"  Schau  bin  nach  Golgotha! 
Dort  schwebt  am   Kreuzes-stamm' 
Im  Todeskampf  dein  Jesus, 
Mit  Joiner  Schuld  beladen. 
Schau  bin  nach  Golgotha! 
Er  neigt  sein  sterbend  llaupt, 
Es  bricht  sein  Herz, 
Selbst  Engel  weinen : 
Der  Welterloser  todt !" 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  choral,  but  it  does  not  suit  a  gay 
social  circle,"  said  Cornelia,  evidently  deeply  moved. 
She  had  felt  that  her  voice  grew  tremulous  during  the 
recital,  and  thought  herself  obliged  to  apologize.  "  The 
profound  melancholy  of  that  sublime  death  overwhelms 
me  in  those  few  lines.  They  conjure  up  the  whole  pic- 
ture of  the  saddest  hour  earth  has  ever  known,  and  I 
cannot  refrain  from  tears." 

"  While  you  spoke  I  saw  only  the  angels  who  were 
weeping  there,"  whispered  Heinrich,  gazing  at  her  with 
delight,  "  and  yet  your  trembling  voice  touched  me 
strangely.  Who  gave  you  this  prophetic  inspiration, 
which,  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  feels  agonies  perhaps 
never  endured  ?  All  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were  mir- 
rored in  your  eyes.'*' 

"Oh,  who  could  help  feeling  them?"  replied  Cornelia. 
"Who  that  truly  entered  into  them  could  help  being 
thrilled  with  the  deepest  grief?  What  a  sacrifice,  to 
make  himself  the  bleeding  example  of  his  teachings! 
What  a  love,  which  devotes  itself  to  secure  the  happiness 
of  a  world  !  When  I  read  the  history  of  the  passion,  it 
seems  as  if  I  had  a  thousand  hearts,  so  keenly,  so  pain- 
fully, do  I  feel  the  death-agony  of  the  One  Heart  that 
bore  in  itself  the  sorrows  of  all,  suffered  for  all,  bled  for 
all,  loved  all, — even  those  who  betrayed  it, — and  was 


A   NEW  LIFE.  141 

understood  and  valued  by  so  few.  I  see  him  turn  pale, 
and  feel  how  Mary  counts  his  last  sighs  and  dies  ten 
deaths  with  him.  The  breezes  pause  in  their  course  and 
are  silent :  the  clouded  sky  bends  heavily  towards  the 
earth  ;  all  creation  is  frozen  with  terror,  and  listens  for  the 
fearful  moment  when  the  God-man  shall  die, — when  the 
monstrous  murder  of  the  Guiltless  One  shall  be  com- 
pleted. And  now  he  bends  his  head,  and  all  is  over.  It 
is  done,  and  the  long-repressed  woe  breaks  forth.  The 
storm  rages  over  the  earth,  rends  the  veil,  bursts  the  false 
temple.  The  world  groans ;  and  the  Lord  himself, 
touched  even  in  his  unapproachable  divinity,  extends  his 
arms  to  his  beloved  Son  to  receive  him  to  his  heart.  Oh, 
my  friend,  who  can  read  or  hear  this  story  without  being 
moved  to  the  very  depths  of  his  soul  ?  Even  if  you  deny 
this  great  event  and  prove  that  it  never  existed,  and  even 
reveal  who  invented  it, — who  subjected  a  world  to  the 
might  of  this  thought, — he  too  was  inspired  by  a  higher 
power, — he  too  came  from  God  and  has  performed  a 
miracle ;  a  miracle  that  no  one  can  deny,  for  it  uplifts 
itself  in  gigantic  structures  of  stone  in  every  land;  it 
stamps  its  impress  upon  every  grave;  it  receives  the 
new-born  infant  with  a  holy  ordinance  ;  it  is  the  last  con- 
solation of  the  dying ;  nay,  at  this  very  moment  it  fills 
your  own  breast  with  silent  veneration :  I  can  see  it  in 
you." 

Heinrich  could  scarcely  breathe ;  he  did  not  know 
what  had  befallen  him.  Was  it  a  supernatural  creature 
who  was  speaking  to  him  ?  He  was  obliged  to  start  up 
and  go  to  the  window,  so  strangely  did  his  thoughts 
pulse  through  his  brain-.  Was  it  the  artistic  impression 
of  her  powerful,  eloquent  words,  her  animated  play  of 
expression,  the  capacity  for  suffering  in  her  nature  bodingly 
revealed  in  this  description,  or  the  effect  of  the  words 
themselves?  He  knew  not,  but  he  felt  as  much  agitated 
as  if  Christianity  had  just  been  revealed  to  him  for  the 
first  time. 

"You  could  do  more  good  than  many  preachers,"  he 
said,  at  last,  returning  to  his  seat.  "  You  understand 
how  to  obtain  a  hold  upon  the  soul,  and  I  am  amazed  at 
your  religious  enthusiasm.  I  should  have  supposed  you 


142  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

to  have  more  tendency  towards  rationalism.     Are  you  a 
Protestant?" 

"Oh,  do  not  ask  whether  I  am  Catholic  or  Protestant! 
I  am  a  Christian, — that  is  the  principal  thing.  By  faith 
and  education  I  am  a  Protestant;  but  I  belong  to  no 
creed,  for  I  have  no  faith  in  miracles, — at  least  the 
miracles  the  church  teaches.  I  recognize  too  entirely  the 
divinity  of  the  laws  of  the  universe  to  believe  that  God 
must  remove  Nature  from  her  usual  course  to  reveal  him- 
self. Every  deviation  from  natural  laws  is  an  abnormal 
condition,  and  therefore  unlovely,  for  all  beauty  consists 
in  the  harmony  of  each  individual  part  with  the  whole; 
but  I  can  accept  and  reverence  nothing  that  is  not  beauti- 
ful,— far  less  consider  God,  the  soul  of  the  system  of  the 
world,  as  the  author  of  an  anomaly.  Herein  I  am  a 
rationalist.  I  hate  those  who  bar  the  progress  of  science, 
because  they  fear  the  natural  explanation  of  things  may 
destroy  the  dogma  of  revelation ;  but  I  also  hate  those 
who  think  that  by  the  natural  explanation  of  things  they 
can  deny  the  existence  of  a  higher  power.  God  reveals 
himself  indirectly  in  the  laws  of  nature,  and  directly  in 
the  soul.  The  noblest  man  is  to  me  the  greatest  wonder 
of  creation ;  and  if  I  believe  Christ  to  be  the  son  of  Jo- 
seph, I  adore  him  none  the  less  as  the  true  Son  of  God, 
spirit  of  his  Spirit,  proceeding  from  and  returning  to  him. 
Thus  I  am  a  Christian  with  my  whole  soul,  and,  with 
ardent  love,  bear  my  Saviour  in  my  heart  as  my  highest 
model.  What  would  all  my  acts  be  if  I  had  not  this 
fundamenta.r~principle  of  Christianity?  if  I  did  not  per- 
form my  charitable  deeds  in  the  spiritof  self-sacrifice  Christ 
taught  us,  what  should  I  be  ?  A  sentimental  adventuress, 
a  heroine  of  romance,  who  has  one  eccentric  caprice  to- 
day and  another  to-morrow  ;  is  always  playing  a  part, 
and  constantly  unhappy  because  she  has  no  object,  no 
purpose,  in  life;  for  selfishness  leaves  us  always  empty 
and  unsatisfied,  while  Christianity  is  its  most  powerful 
opponent." 

Heinrich  sat  for  some  time  in  silence,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  floor  ;  when  he  looked  up  Cornelia  was? 
gazing  into  his  grave  countenance  with  an  expression  of 
affectionate  inquiry, — she  felt  that  her  last  words  had 


A   NEW  LIFE.  143 

touched  some  sensitive  point.  Heinrich  passed  his  band 
through  his  hair  as  if  he  wished  to  banish  the  obtrusive 
thoughts  that  crowded  upon  him. 

"  The  poetry  of  Christianity  has  excited  and  enchained 
your  fancy.  It  would  be  useless  to  convince  you  by 
scientific  proofs,  since  you  have  formed  a  religion  which  is 
not  dependent  upon  them." 

"  Certainly,"  laughed  Cornelia. 

"  You  wish  to  believe,  and  therefore  you  do.  You  are 
fortunate  !  You  have  produced  a  wonderful  harmony 
between  your  skeptical  reason  and  enthusiastic  heart.  I 
admire  you  ;  for  this  theory  of  spiritual  revelation  by 
natural  means,  which  can  go  hand  in  hand  with  science, 
is  the  best  that  a  talented  woman  can  appropriate.  Who 
taught  you  all  this  ?" 

"Her  own  harmonious  soul,"  said  Yeronica.  "She 
has  a  keen  intellect,  and  a  soft,  feeling  heart ;  therefore 
she  does  not  believe  unconditionally,  as  we  are  obliged  to 
do,  and  yet  is  full  of  religious  devotion.  Thus  she  found 
that  harmony,  as  you  call  it,  and  restored  peace  to  her 
mind.  When  you  know  her  better,  you  will  be  aston- 
ished at  the  wonderful  symmetry  of  her  nature." 

"  I  am  already  !"  exclaimed  Heinrich  ;  "  I  never  had 
any  intellectual  pleasure  which  could  be  compared  to  my 
intercourse  with  you.  I  could  listen  forever  in  raptur- 
ous delight  to  the  thousand  turns  her  thoughts  take. 
Tell  me,  Cornelia,  from  what  noble  union  of  wondrous 
hearts  did  you  spring,  to  be  mentally  and  bodily  so 
beautiful, — so  beautiful  ?" 

Cornelia  looked  at  Yeronica.  The  latter  passed 
Heinrich  a  cup.  "  Take  some  tea,  and  I  will  tell  you 
the  story  of  my  musical  urn,  which  interested  you  so 
much  just  now.  You  will  thereby  learn  our  whole 
history,  if  you  care  to  know  it." 

"  Oh,  pray  tell  me  whatever  I  may  be  permitted  to 
bear.  You  do  not  know  how  eagerly  I  desire  it." 

"I  have  already  told  you,"  began  Yeronica,  "that 
Cornelia  is  the  child  of  my  adopted  daughter.  This 
adopted  daughter,  the  wife  of  the  political  martyr 
Erwing,  was  thrown  upon  my  bands  by  a  singular 
destiny,  and  I  thank  God,  that,  through  her  and  after- 


144  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

wards  through  Cornelia,  he  gave  my  life  a  purpose  and 
meaning.  I  enjoyed  a  mother's  pleasures  without  being 
compelled  to  suffer  her  pains ;  for  when  God  took  my 
dear  adopted  daughter  from  me,  my  grief  would  have 
been  infinitely  greater  if  the  lost  one  had  been  mine  by 
birth.  But  Cornelia  has,  as  yet,  given  me  nothing  but 
joy.  She  was  difficult  to  educate,  but  even  the  toil  of 
reducing  these  chaotic  talents  to  order  was  a  pleasure. 
That  I  have  succeeded  in  doing  so  is  a  wonder  to 
myself,  for  I  never  had  an  opportunity  to  study  these 
powerful  characters.  My  mother,  to  the  day  of  her 
death,  had  a  childlike  heart.  She  was  only  sixteen 
years  older  than  I,  and  seemed  like  a  friend  and  {'lay- 
mate  rather  than  a  mother.  The  governess  my  father 
procured  for  me  really  educated  the  mamma  at  the  same 
time  with  the  little  daughter!  This  gay,  innocent 
youth  has  been  the  foundation  of  my  character.  My 
grandfather  was  a  Danish  nobleman,  who  became  a 
widower  at  my  mother's  birth,  and  lived  a  solitary  life 
upon  his  estates  at  Sorb'e,  though  he  opened  his  house 
to  all  the  nobility  in  the  neighborhood.  It  chanced  that 
an  acquaintance  one  day  introduced  a  friend  named 
Albin,  a  native  of  Holstein,  who  was  traveling  through 
the  country.  Herr  von  Albin,  a  handsome,  attractive 
man  of  fifty,  was  seated  at  dinner  next  to  my  mother, 
who  at  that  time  was  not  quite  fifteen,  and  she  particu- 
larly remembered  that  when  some  magnificent  straw- 
berries were  served  at  dessert,  the  gentleman  assured  her 
that  much  larger  and  finer  ones  grew  on  his  estate.  This 
greatly  astonished  my  mother,  for  she  had  always 
believed  the  strawberries  in  her  garden  the  best  in  the 
world. 

"A  few  weeks  after  a  servant  summoned  her  to  her 
father's  room,  and  the  latter  informed  her  that  she  would 
soon  be  married.  She  said,  'As  you  please,  dear  father,' 
and  went  sorrowfully  back  to  her  governess.  When, 
however,  on  the  following  day  Herr  von  Albin  was 
presented  to  her  as  her  future  bridegroom,  she  was 
greatly  delighted,  for  she  thought  of  the  wonderful 
strawberries  that  grew. on  the  kind  gentleman's  estate. 

"  This  Herr  von  Albin  was  my  father.     He  loved  my 


A  NEW  LIFE.  145 

mother  with  touching  tenderness,  and  did  everything  in 
his  power  to  prevent  her  from  feeling  the  great  difference 
in  their  ages.  He  took  journeys  with  her,  and  as  German 
society  pleased  her  far  better  than  the  formal  Danish 
etiquette  of  those  days,  lived  by  turns  upon  his  Holstein 

estates  in  summer,  and  the  North  German  city  of  B 

in  winter.  Thus  it  happens  that  my  whole  nature  is 
thoroughly  Xorth  German,  and  I  have  also  inculcated 
some  of  it  into  Cornelia's  mind.  When  I  was  in  my 
fourteenth  year  I  lost  my  father,  and  my  mother,  then 
scarcely  thirty,  was  still  very  girlish  in  her  appearance, 
and  equally  so  in  character.  The  death  of  the  kiud 
husband  whom  she  had  loved  with  childlike  reverence 
was  the  first  sorrow  of  her  life. 

"  With  the  same  obedience  with  which  she  had  for- 
merly married  Herr  von  Albin  she  now,  at  her  father's 
command,  wedded  a  second  husband ;  but  this  time  she 
did  not  rejoice  over  beautiful  strawberries. 

"My  stepfather,  an  attache  of  the  Danish  Embassy  in 

N ,  was  very  rich ;  and  as  my  father's  estates  were 

entailed  on  male  heirs,  and  my  mother  had  also  inherited 
little  or  nothing,  my  grandfather,  whose  property  like- 
wise reverted  to  the  crown  at  his  death,  wished  by  this 
marriage  to  secure  his  daughter  a  future  free  from  care. 
But  whether  my  mother  was  happy  with  this  man  I  will 
leave  you  to  decide.  He  was  a  cold  aristocrat,  chose 
society  which  was  distasteful  to  us,  and  left  us  much 
alone  at  a  retired  country  seat,  where  we  led  a  life 
devoted  to  books  and  belles-lettres. 

"  Chance  made  me  acquainted  with  a  young  officer,  who, 
despite  his  youth,  was  already  a  widower,  and  the  father 
of  a  little  two-year-old  'daughter.  We  loved  each  other, 
and  he  asked  for  my  hand ;  but  my  stepfather  refused 
his  consent,  because  the  marriage  did  not  suit  his  plans 
for  me,  and  perhaps,  also,  because  he  had  no  inclination 
to  give  me  a  dowry.  What  a  nature  that  young  man 
possessed  !  Alas  !  he  bore  the  doom  of  an  early  death. 
During  our  stay  at  our  country  seat  my  mother  some- 
times permitted  him  to  visit  us.  She  became  constantly 
sadder  and  paler,  and  the  only  hours  that  she  seemed 
more  animated  and  joyous  were  those  we  all  spent 
G  13 


146  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

together.  I  sang  and  played  upon  the  piano  passably 
well,  and  the  choral  we  have  just  mentioned,  which  was 
peculiarly  in  harmony  with  my  Edmund's  religious  feel- 
ings, I  sang  for  him  again  and  again.  We  spent  many 
such  evenings  as  this  together,  and  were  never  happier 
than  when  assembled  around  the  steaming  tea-urn  in 
North  German  fashion.  My  friend  often  said  it  would 
be  charming  if  its  confused  humming  could  be  trans- 
formed into  a  distinct  melody,  for  he  found  all  the  charm 
of  northern  sentimentality  in  its  mysterious  music. 

"  Just  at  this  time  my  stepfather  suddenly  died,  leaving 
my  mother  a  large  fortune,  and  there  was  now  no  further 
impediment  to  our  marriage.  We  wished  to  have  my 
betrothed  husband  resign  from  the  army  at  once;  but  he 
would  not  consent.  He  wished  to  take  part  in  the  last 
great  campaign  against  Napoleon  before  he  resigned  him- 
self to  the  happiness  of  private  life.  We  parted  as 
betrothed  lovers ;  I  took  his  little  daughter  from  her 
boarding-school  to  my  own  home,  to  be  a  mother  to  her, 
for  I  loved  the  child  ;  but  my  mother  clung  to  the  little 
one  with  peculiar  affection.  After  the  departure  of  my 
affianced  husband,  she  was  often  confined  to  her  bed,  but 
her  still  youthful  and  beautiful  features  beamed  with 
almost  superhuman  love  when  she  clasped  the  little  girl 
in  her  arms.  She  was  then  thirty-eight  years  old,  and  I 
two-and-twenty.  Alas  !  it  was  only  later  that  I  first 
suspected  the  true  cause  of  my  mother's  quiet  illness. 
Her  poor  heart  had  never  known  love, — let  me  be  silent." 
The  speaker's  bright  eyes  suddenly  grew  dim,  and  tears 
ran  down  her  pale  cheeks. 

"Oh,  God!"  murmured  Heinrich,  involuntarily. 

"  She  was  constantly  thinking  of  what  we  could  do 
to  surprise  Edmund  on  his  return,"  continued  Veronica. 
"  One  day  she  said  she  would  like  to  have  him  find  on 
our  table  an  urn  constructed  exactly  as  he  had  desired, 
and  that  the  toy,  whose  idea  she  suggested  to  me,  should 
play  his  favorite  choral,  '  Schau  bin  nach  Golgotha  !'  As 
I  saw  how  greatly  she  had  set  her  heart  upon  it,  I 
instantly  gave  the  order  to  the  celebrated  mechanician, 
Gebhardt,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  months  the  work 
was  completed.  Alas  !  it  afforded  her  the  last  pleasure 


A   NEW  LIFE.  147 

she  ever  knew.  It  played  for  the  first  time  one  dreary 
autumn  evening.  She  sat  up  in  bed  with  her  arm  around 
the  little  girl,  and  listened  with  childlike  devotion. 
'  May  you  solemnize  a  beautiful  service  of  love  with  this 
organ  !'  said  she.  '  Make  his  home-life  bright  and  pleas- 
ant, that  he  may  always  be  glad  to  stay  with  you  ; 
believe  me,  a  solitary  wife  is  a  most  wretched  creature. 
Make  him  happy,  my  Veronica  ;  he  deserves  it.'  '  Grand- 
mamma,' lisped  the  child,  throwing  her  little  arms  lov- 
ingly around  the  neck  of  the  fair,  youthful  '  grandmother.' 
Her  cheeks  flushed  feverishly,  and  she  concealed  her  tears 
upon  the  neck  of  the  'little  angel.'  'Do  you  know, 
Veronica,  that  I  have  begun  to  write  poetry  in  my  old 
age  !'  she  said,  suddenly,  with  a  mournful  smile.  '  Yes- 
terday I  composed  these  verses: 

"Thank  thy  God,  oh,  happy  mortal! 

Love's  thy  portion  here  below, 
And,  glorified  in  death  by  love, 
Thy  immortal  part  shall  glow. 

Love  suffered  for  thee  on  the  cross, 

Upon  Golgotha  died  for  thee; 
Is  ever  near,  though  far  away 

He  whom  thou  lov'st  may  be. 

Cheer  thee,  my  heart,  though  here  on  earth 

Thou  seekest  love  in  vain  ; 
Feel  that  there  is  no  lack  with  God; 

Cry  blessings  on  his  name. 

"'Oh,  mother!'  I  exclaimed,  deeply  touched,  'why  is 
this  ?  Do  you  lack  love  ?  Do  we  not  all  love  you  most 
tenderly  ?'  Weeping  bitterly,  I  pressed  her  to  my  heart. 
Just  at  that  moment  a  letter  was  brought  in.  '  From 
him  !'  she  exclaimed,  broke  the  seal,  and  sank  back  sense- 
less upon  the  pillows.  I  tore  the  letter  from  her  rigid 
hands, — it  was  the  notice  of  my  lover's  death.  I  rushed 
into  the  next  room  to  conceal  the  outbreak  of  my  anguish 
from  my  mother,  and,  throwing  myself  upon  my  knees, 
prayed  for  strength.  Suddenly  I  heard  strange  sounds, 
which  made  me  start  up,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  child 
screamed  aloud.  In  mortal  terror  I  hurried  back  to  find 
my  mother  in  her  death-agony.  '  Mother,  mother,'  I 
shrieked,  despairingly,  'do  not  leave  me  alone  in  rny 


148  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

misery  !'  With  a  look  of  inexpressible  love,  she  placed 
the  little  one  in  my  arras;  I  clasped  them  both  in  a  wild 
embrace;  felt  the  last  breath  of  her  pure  lips,  and  then 
sank  back  senseless,  dimly  hearing,  as  if  from  another 
world,  the  air  '  Schau  hin  nach  Golgotha  !'  Spare  me 
the  description  of  my  sufferings.  For  a  year  I  struggled 
with  a  disease  of  the  lungs,  but  my  strong,  youthful 
constitution  obtained  the  victory.  Yet  one  tiny  flower 
of  happiness  bloomed  for  me  upon  my  lover's  grave  : 
his  little  daughter, — his  own  flesh  and  blood, — a  part  of 
himself.  I  had  not  wholly  lost  him, — was  not  entirely 
alone.  Nay,  the  child  resembled  him  so  much  that  with 
silent  delight  I  saw  his  living  image  always  before  me  ; 
but  the  double  blow  had  so  crushed  my  soul  that  I  needed 
and  sought  seclusion.  I  purchased  a  small  estate  in  the 

province  of  R ,  where  I  devoted  myself  entirely  to 

the  sorrowful  pleasure  of  educating  my  Antonie  and 
cherishing  memories  of  my  lover, — let  people  say  what 
they  chose, — and  shut  myself  up  in  my  little  world  of 
feeling.  I  read  everything  new  that  appeared  in  the 
kingdom  of  literature,  and  in  all  found  myself  and  my  own 
grief.  By  degrees  I  became  not  only  calm  but  happy ; 
the  lonely  life  I  led  caused  all  the  pictures  of  my  memory 
to  assume  so  tangible  a  form  that  my  lover  and  my  dear 
mother  appeared  before  me, — I  was  surrounded  by  all 
whom  I  loved.  Thus  the  dead  became  alive  to  me,  and 
the  living,  with  the  exception  of  my  child,  dead.  The 
happier  I  felt  in  these  dreams  the  more  anxiously  I 
avoided  all  contact  with  reality,  that  the  delicate  webs  of 
my  fancy  might  not  be  torn  asunder  by  its  rude  touch. 
Nor  was  this  difficult,  for  no  one  troubled  themselves 
about  the  stranger.  Beautiful  scenes  of  nature  entranced 
me  with  their  ever-varying  charms  ;  an  excellent  servant 
managed  my  little  household;  and  thus  for  fourteen  years 
I  lived  entirely  npart  from  the  world  with  my  adopted 
daughter,  my  books,  and  my  dead.  This  is  the  reason 
why  I  seem  too  young  for  my  age, — I  stood  still  for  many 
years  of  my  life.  But  when  Antonie  grew  up,  I  perceived 
that  I  ought  not  to  make  the  bright,  blooming  young  girl 

a  hermit.     My  parents'  house  in  N was  empty,  and  I 

resolved  to  move  here  and  introduce  my  adopted  child  to 


A   NEW  LIFE.  149 

society ;  but  how  was  I  astonished  to  find  it  so  entirely 
different  from  what  I  had  left  it!  Since  peace  had  once 
more  smiled  upon  the  country, — since  no  universal  sorrow 
impressed  its  deep  seal  upon  every  soul, — men  seemed 
to  me  more  selfish,  more  material.  They  doubtless  still 
coquetted  with  a  certain  sentimentality,  but  it  seemed  to 
me  that  with  true  sorrow  true  feeling  had  also  vanished. 
Time  had  advanced,  while  during  my  long  seclusion  I 
had  remained  standing  still ;  I  felt  that  I  did  not  under- 
stand this  world,  and  was  even  allowed  to  perceive  that 
I  no  longer  suited  it.  As  through  my  extensive  course 
of  reading  Antonie  and  I  had  obtained  knowledge,  and 
also,  probably,  formed  some  opinions,  several  literary 
people  became  interested  in  us,  and  thus,  with  Antonie's 
full  consent,  I  again  withdrew  from  society,  to  collect 
around  me  a  circle  of  men  and  women  who  possessed 
similar  tastes.  The  unfortunate  republican,  Erwing,  then 
a  quiet,  much-respected  man  and  a  distinguished  author, 
was  also  introduced  to  me.  He  loved  and  married  An- 
tonie ;  Cornelia  was  born  the  following  year.  At  that 
time  Erwing  was  already  developing  his  dangerous 
political  tendencies.  He  was  a  noble  man,  and  sacrificed 
himself  to  his  principles,  and,  alas !  his  wife  also,  who 
died  of  grief  for  him.  God  took  her  from  the  world  ;  her 
death  broke  down  all  the  barriers  that  had  hitherto  re- 
strained Erwing,  and  his  sorrow  for  her  increased  his 
political  wrath  to  its  height.  Soon  after,  the  unhappy  man 
was  obliged  to  fly  to  America,  where  he  died,  leaving  the 
orphan,  to  whom,  since  her  father's  flight,  I  have  filled  a 
mother's  place,  as  I  did  to  her  mother.  In  so  doing  I 
have  fulfilled  a  sweet  and  sacred  duty  to  my  dead  love, 
who  lives  and  hovers  around  me  in  eternal  youth,  and 
blesses  my  efforts  in  behalf  of  his  granddaughter  !" 

The  old  maid  paused,  with  cheeks  crimsoned  with 
blushes ;  she  had  folded  her  hands  over  her  knitting,  and 
seemed  wholly  absorbed  in  memories  of  the  past.  Cor- 
nelia sat  lost  in  thought,  with  her  head  resting  on  her 
hand.  . 

"  What  a  face,  so  victorious  in  its  calm  pride  !"  said 
Heinrich  to  himself;  "  what  hair,  what  a  neck,  what  an 
arm!  What  movements,  and  lines  !  What  grace!  Yes, 
13* 


150  ^    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

it  is  the  soul  that  animates  this  frame,  and  warm  blood 
that  gleams  through  it  so  rosily  !" 

Jle  laid  his  open  palm  before  her  on  the  table;  she 
placed  her  hand  in  it.  There  was  nothing  very  singular 
in  tin!  action,  but  her  cheeks  glowed  ;  it  seemed  as  if  he 
was  drawing-  her  head  towards  him,  as  if  she  must  bend 
forward  ;  yet  he  held  her  hand  calmly  in  his.  Veronica, 
absorbed  in  her  memories,  rose  to  get  Ileinrich  a  picture 
of  her  lover.  They  were  alone !  A  new  expression 
flashed  over  Ottmar's  face,  —  Heinrich  and  Henri  had 
changed  places!  the  moment  had  tempted  the  latter  irre- 
sistibly. He  slowly  drew  Cornelia's  hand  towards  him, 
and  bent  his  handsome  head  to  hers;  his  eyes  beamed 
with  inexpressible  love,  and  his  voice  trembled  with 
fervor  as  he  whispered  : 

"  Poor  heart,  how  much  you  must  have  suffered,  must 
still  suffer,  in  the  memory  of  your  unhappy  father!  Oh, 
if  you  could  but  look  into  the  depths  of  this  soul  and 
know  how  I  feel  for  you  ! — oh,  love  !"  He  pressed  his  lips 
gently  upon  her  hand,  and  let  them  rest  there,  without 
kissing  it. 

Cornelia  scarcely  breathed;  the  touch  thrilled  through 
her  whole  frame  like  an  electric  shock.  She  felt  that  a 
new  happiness,  never  known  before,  was  entering  her 
heart,  and  yielded  to  it  without  the  slightest  movement. 
Then  the  organ  slowly  played  the  strophe,  "  Selbst 
Engel  weinen,"  and  died  away.  J/rnri  raised  his  head, 
and  asked,  gently,  "  What  do  you  think  of  me  now?" 

She  could  not  speak,  but  looked  into  his  eyes  with  an 
expression  so  dreamy  and  ardent  that  Henri  needed  no 
words.  His  quick  ear  heard  Veronica's  approach,  and  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  attracted  the  attention  of 
Cornelia,  who  was  completely  absorbed  in  her  own  feel- 
ings. The  old  lady  showed  Henri  her  lover's  miniature, 
and  found  it  perfectly  natural  that  after  these  reminis- 
cences Cornelia  should  burst  into  tears.  Cornelia  herself 
did  not  know  their  cause,  for  she  really  had  no  sorrowful 
memories;  the  things  we  hear  in  early  childhood  do  not 
malie  so  vivid  an  impression  ;  and  her  youth,  under 
Veronica's  care,  had  been  a  happy  one.  Far  less  was  it 
the  recollection  of  her  first  love,  for  this  now  seemed  to 


A   NEW  LIFE.  151 

her  like  a  dream.  What  was  it,  then?  What  had  hap- 
pened? He  had  told  her  that  he  pitied  her;  that  was 
very  natural :  she  had  given  him  her  hand  and  he  had 
kissed  it, — uo,  not  even  kissed  it,  he  had  only  allowed 
his  lips  to  rest  upon  it;  but  it  was  perhaps  that  very 
thing, — how  strange! 

Henri's  accustomed  eyes  read  all  these  thoughts  in 
Cornelia's  face,  and  with  exultant  satisfaction  saw  the 
net  resting  upon  the  wings  of  her  soul.  "Cornelia,"  he 
said,  softly,  while  Veronica  was  counting  her  stitches, 
"  you  are  reflecting  upon  the  nature  of  sympathy  again, 
but  you  will  not  fathom  it  yet!" 

"  You  are  right,"  she  answered. 

She  had  been  playing  mechanically  with  one  of  her 
rings,  and  it  now  fell  from  her  hand.  Henri  picked  it  up, 
and,  with  a  smile,  replaced  it  on  her  finger.  Again  she 
blushed.  "Why?"  she  asked,  unconsciously. 

"  Our  child  is  sad,"  he  said  to  Veronica,  with  the  win- 
ning expression  which  had  always  prevailed  upon  women 
to  devote  their  lives  to  him.  "  VV7hat  can  we  do  to  cheer 
her  ?" 

Cornelia,  as  if  spell-bound  by  the  magic  of  those  tones, 
made  no  reply. 

"  How  kind  you  are  !"  said  Veronica. 

"Are  you  angry  because  I  call  you  'our  child'?" 
asked  Henri,  with  admirably  assumed  simplicity.  "  I 
am  becoming  intimate  too  rapidly,  am  I  not?  Be  kind, 
and  attribute  it  to  my  warm,  truthful  nature.  Sooner  or 
later  we  shall  meet  more  familiarly,  I  am  sure ;  so  why 
delay  and  so  lose  the  precious  moments  for  the  sake  of 
troublesome  forms.  I  would  gladly  take  you  to  my  heart 
as  carefully  and  protectingly  as — a  father.  Fraulein  Ve- 
ronica will  allow  me  to  do  so,  I  am  sure.  Be  our  dear 
child,  and  let  me  take  some  small  share  in  your  education." 

He  arose  and  stood  before  her  in  all  his  gentlemanly 
dignity,  bent  down  and  kindhr  took  her  bands;  but  the 
quick  pulsations  of  his  heart,  which  Cornelia  heard  close 
beside  her  ear,  accorded  strangely  with  these  paternal 
words.  This  was  the  well-calculated  charm  fie  had  for 
her:  the  manly,  noble  superiority  which  expressed  itself 
in  this  fatherly  authority,  and  involuntarily  extorted  a 


152  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

childlike  reverence ;  and  the  enthusiastic,  almost  boyish, 
tenderness  which  bowed  before  her  to  raise  her  to  giddy 
heights. 

"  Teach  me,  then ;  but  permit  me  to  do  the  same  by 
you,"  she  said,  with  an  embarrassed  smile,  rising  from 
her  -chair. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Henri ;  "  I  need  it  more  than  you. 
Oh,  I  will  follow  you  blindly;  the  words  of  those  pure  lips 
shall  be  my  oracle !"  His  eyes  rested  upon  the  young 
girl's  fresh,  beautiful  mouth  with  ardent  longing.  He 
felt  that  it  would  be  better  to  go,  and  allow  the  impression 
he  had  made  to  produce  its  effect  upon  her  in  silence. 
With  a  violent  effort  he  released  Cornelia's  hands  and 
hastily  took  his  leave.  As  he  opened  the  door  he  heard 
his  name  called  gently  :  he  turned ;  Cornelia  had  followed 
him  a  step  and  asked,  with  the  most  lovable  frankness, — 

"  When  will  you  come  again  ?" 

"  Cornelia !"  cried  Henri,  and  was  about  to  rush  back 
to  her;  but  Heinrich,  with  a  tremendous  effort,  checked 
the  excited  feelings,  made  her  a  low  bow,  said,  in  a 
fatherly  tone,  "  I  will  come  as  soon  as  I  can  ;  I  cannot 
fix  any  positive  time  now,"  and  left  the  room  without 
looking  back. 

"What  was  that?"  asked  Cornelia,  covering  her  eyes 
with  her  hand.  "  Did  it  not  seem  as  if  another  person 
was  speaking  from  his  lips?  Did  he  not  call  my  name 
so  eagerly,  and  the  next  moment  take  leave  of  me  so 
distantly,  so  coldly  ?  Can  a  man's  mood  change  so  sud- 
denly ?  Whims  can  alter  in  an  instant,  I  know  that  by 
myself;  but  what  we  feel,  what  is  deeply  and  firmly 
rooted  in  our  hearts,  we  cannot  so  suddenly  deny, — it  can- 
not yield  to  a  caprice.  Which  is  true,  his  warmth  or  his 
coldness? — or  is  it  possible  that  they  can  both  exist?  Ah, 
do  not  question,  incredulous  heart  !  What  he  has  given 
you  to-day  is  true  :  let  that  satisfy  you;  and  where  you 
cannot  understand  him,  trust  him."  With  a  heavy,  sigh 
she  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  Veronica  and  laid 
her  head  on  her  lap.  "Ah.  Veronica,  how  could  I  live 
without  the  man  you  loved  !" 

"  What  a  submission !"  thought  Henri,  as  he  walked 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  A    WIFE.  153 

towards  home  in  the  proud  conviction  of  a  certain  vic- 
tory. 

"  Take  care  !"  said  Heinrich  :  "  this  submission  is  no 
amorous  weakness,  but  the  implicit  confidence  every  in- 
nocent, loving  girl  places  in  the  man  she  adores.  If  you 
ever  abuse  this  faith,  you  will  perceive  with  terror  her 
power  of  resistance." 


XII. 

THE    SEARCH    FOR   A    WIFE. 

"MY  dear  Herr  von  Ottmar,"  said  the  prince,  holding 
out  his  hand  to  Heinrich,  "  you  came  out  of  the  vexa- 
tious affair,  which  unfortunately  I  could  not  spare  you, 
like  a  hero.  Am  I  to  do  anything  for  your  protege? 
Tell  me  how  I  can  assist  the  young  man." 

Heinrich  bad  intended  to  affect  reserve,  and  to-day 
was  just  in  the  right  humor  for  it.  He  bowed  low  with 
the  air  of  a  deeply  offended  man. 

"  I  thank  you  most  humbly,  your  Highness.  I  have 
already  provided  for  Albert  Preheira.  I  am  happy  to 
have  proved  to  your  Highness  that  I  have  given  my 
protection  to  no  unworthy  person,  and  am  always  ready 
to  answer  for  my  acts  like  a  man.  I  have  made  Albert 
Preheim  the  steward  of  my  estates,  which  have  greatly 
depreciated  in  value  during  my  long  absence.  I  will  also 
venture  to  request  your  Highness  to  grant  me  leave  of 
absence  for  an  indefinite  time,  that  I  may  be  able  to  in- 
struct him  in  his  duties  there." 

"  You  wish  to  leave  me  now,  when  I  need  you  most  ?" 

"If  I  could  hope  that  your  Highness  still  needed  me, 
I  should  feel  happier  than  is  the  case  at  present." 

"  Do  you  believe,  Ottmar,  that  a  time  will  ever  come 
when  we  shall  be  unnecessary  to  each  other  ?  I  rely 
more  upon  your  friendship  for  my  person,  even  if,  as  an 
independent  man,  you  can  do  without  the  prince." 

"  Your  Highness,  let  me  be  frank  with  you.  How 
a* 


154  A    TWOFOLD  L1FK. 

faithfully  I  have  served  you,  the  sleepless  nights  during 
which  I  have  shared  your  Highuess's  arduous  labors  and 
heavy  cares  for  your  country,  my  deserted  home,  my 
ruined  estates,  may  prove.  Compelled  to  leave  my  own 
court  because  I  was  an  adherent  of  the  priesthood,  I 
found  with  you  a  sphere  of  activity  in  harmony  with  my 
political  convictions,  an  only  too  generous  recognition  of 
my  humble  services,  and  the  highest  possible  reward  in 
your  personal  friendship.  But  now,  your  Highness,  I 
stand  here  as  a  compromised  man,  a  hero  of  comedy,  who 
played  the  martyr  for  his  own  sins  for  the  amusement  of 
tiie  rabble.  This,  your  Highness,  I  cannot  endure.  So- 
ciety has  a  morbidly  sensitive  feeling  for  indecorum  far 
more  than  crime;  it  can  ignore  a  secret  sin,  but  not  a 
public  impropriety.  It  is  not  for  my  guilt  but  its  open 
acknowledgment  that  men  will  turn  their  backs  upon 
me,  and  I  must  go  into  retirement,  for  I  cannot  bear  to 
have  the  finger  of  scorn  pointed  at  me." 

The  prince  smiled.  "  Oh,  if  that  is  all  that  drives  you 
n way,  Ottmar,  you  can  be  perfectly  at  ease:  1  will  become 
your  security.  Do  you  suppose  I  would  have  asked  my 
friend  to  expose  himself  if  i  had  not  possessed  the  means 
to  make  amends  for  his  humiliation  at  any  moment  ?  I 
u m  astonished  at  your  simplicity,  Ottmar.  Should  you 
not  have  known  society  better?  Why,  even  if  I  would 
allow  you  to  fall,  you  would  still  be  esteemed;  but  if  I 
uphold  you,  people  will  treat  you  with  the  utmost  con- 
sideration. What  advantage  would  it  be  to  be  ruler  if 
I  could  not  even  manage  the  handful  of  puppets  around 
my  throne?  You  must  take  a  journey,  it  is  true,  but  on 
my  business;  if  you  wish  to  visit  your  estates  en  the 
way,  I  have  no  objection  ;  but  I  beg  you  to  remain  there 
DO  longer  than  is  absolutely  necessary.  Do  you  consent?" 

"  My  time  has  only  the  value  it  possesses  for  your 
Highness.  If  I  can  be  of  more  use  in  any  other  place 
than  here,  command  me." 

"  You  will  be  at  ease  here  again  when  you  have  for- 
gotten this  disagreeable  affair.  In  the  first  place  we  will 
seal  people's  mouths  by  a. striking  proof  of  my  continued 
favor.  This  very  night  I  shall  present  you  to  my  mother 
as  Count  von  Ottmar." 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  A    WIFE.      .  155 

"  Your  Highness  !  I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  you 
for  so  much  kindness." 

"As  one  friend  always  does  another:  by  honest  counsel 
and  assistance  when  I  need  them !" 

The  prince  fixed  his  large,  blue  eyes  upon  Ottmar  with 
so  kindly  an  expression  that  the  latter  was  surprised. 

"  I  am  well  aware  that  the  title  of  Count  does  not  make 
amends  for  the  mortification  I  imposed  upon  you;  but 
perhaps  the  consciousness  that,  by  this  act  of  self-sacrifice, 
you  have  won  a  still  larger  share  of  my  esteem  and  con- 
fidence, may  be  some  slight  recompense.  Therefore,  my 
friend,  you  shall  advise  me  to-day  in  the  most  important 
event  of  uiy  life.  I  have  summoned  you  to  discuss  my 
marriage." 

"  Do  I  know  the  princesses?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"One  of  them,  certainly;  and  you  shall  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  other.  One  is  Princess  Ottilie  of 
H ." 

"  What!"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  almost  losing  his  self- 
command.  "Princess  Ottilie  1" 

"Hist!  Pas  si  haul,  mon  ami,  the  walls  have  ears.  Re- 
member that  this  is  still  a  profound  secret;  you  are  to  be 
the  first  to  mature  the  affair.  I  have  the  privilege  of  choos- 
ing between  Princess  Ottilie  and  Princess  Marie  of  D . 

The  latter  is  still  a  mere  child ;  but  the  former  has  lost 
the  first  bloom  of  youth.  I  do  not  wish  to  select  the  lady 
who  will  please  me  best,  but  the  one  who  will  most  satis- 
factorily fill  the  position  of  mistress  of  my  realm ;  it  ia 
not  permitted  me  to  marry  according  to  the  choice  of  my 
heart.  My  love,  as  you  know,  is  given  to  the  beautiful 
Hellbach ;  but  I  can  neither  raise  her  to  the  rank  of  my 
wife,  nor  degrade  her  to  that  of  my  mistress,  and  have 
learned  to  conquer  my  wishes.  The  private  happiness  my 
wife  can  bestow  is  merely  to  make  no  claims  upon  my 
love,  which  has  been  effaced  from  my  breast  with  this 
one  image,  and  not  press  upon  me  an  affection  which  is 
valueless  to  me.  A  sincere  friendship,  and  a  pure  con- 
science, are  all  that  I  shall  giv-e  and  demand." 

Heinrich  had  been  reflecting  in  silence.  "  What 
your  Highness  asks  in  a  wife  is  little,  and  yet  the 
most  difficult  requirement  that  can  be  made  upon  a 


156  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

woman.  She  is  to  offer  her  wedded  husband  no  feeling, 
desire  none  from  him,  save  what  might  be  accorded  to  the 
merest  stranger.  She  is  to  give  your  country  the  heir  to 
the  throne,  and  yet  be  permitted  to  adopt  no  other  man- 
ner towards  the  father  of  her  child  than  that  prescribed 
by  the  laws  of  the  coldest  etiquette.  But  she  must  be- 
stow upon  no  other  the  love  that  her  husband  disdains  ; 
must  enjoy  through  no  other  the  happiness  he  denies  her; 
and  yet  is  always  to  feel  a  calm  affection  for  the  man  who 
has  thus  destroyed  the  joys  of  married  life.  Pardon  me, 
your  Highness,  I  know  women  well;  this  is  a  task  which 
only  a  princess  can  perform, — a  princess  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word  ;  not  a  young  immature  creature,  who  only 
wears  the  mask  of  her  position,  and  in  whose  mind  natu- 
ral rights  far  outweigh  the  claims  of  her  high  station.  A 
princess  such  as  your  Highness  requires,  one  who  has 
subdued  the  first  eager  longings  of  her  heart  and  resigned 
herself  to  consider  the  duties  of  her  lofty  rank  as  the  first 
necessity,  is  the  Princess  Ottilie.  Moreover,  she  is  intel- 
lectual, lovable  as  a  young  girl,  truly  royal  in  her 
bearing,  and  although  no  longer  in  the  first  bloom  of 
youth,  extremely  attractive." 

"If  you,  who  are  so  exacting,  think  her  all  this,  she 
must  really  be  somewhat  remarkable  in  every  respect," 
said  the  prince.  "  You  are  right  in  saying  I  could  hardly 
expect  so  much  self-sacrifice  from  a  young  creature  like 
the  Princess  Marie.  Besides,  the  priests  favor  the  alliance 
with  Ottilie  because  they  rest  great  hopes  upon  her  in- 
fluence over  her  Protestant  uncle,  the  Prince  of  H . 

There  is  only  the  consideration  that  Ottilie  is  said  to  be 
delicate,  and  thereby  the  hope  of  an  heir  to  the  throne 
might  be  endangered." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  think  so,  your  Highness.  She  is 
nervous,  like  all  lofty,  intellectual  natures;  but  such 
women  are  usually  benefited  by  marriage.  Doctors  chat- 
ter a  great  deal  of  exaggerated  nonsense  ;  and  besides,  it 
is  not  for  their  advantage  that  the  generous  princess 
should  be  married  and  leave  the  country.  I  have  watched 
her  for  a  long  time,  and  can  assure  your  Highness  that 
she  has  no  more  serious  illness  than  all  ladies  of  her  rank 
and  age." 


THE  SEARCH  FOR   A    WIFE.  157 

The  prince  paced  up  and  down  the  room  several  times, 
and  then  paused  before  Ottmar.  "  Are  you  giving  me 
conscientious  advice,  Ottmar  ?  Remember  that  the  sole 
object  of  the  heavy  sacrifice  I  am  making  is  to  obtain  an 
heir  to  the  throne." 

"  Egotist !"  thought  Heinrich. 

"  Your  Highness,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  no  physician.  I 
can  only  say  how  I  judge  of  her  as  an  unprofessional 
person,  and  that  I  have  never  thought  her  ill." 

The  prince  again  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 
"Shall  I  venture?" 

"  Yes,  your  Highness." 

The  prince  turned  towards  his  writing-table  and  showed 
Heinrich  a  picture.  "  Is  this  a  good  likeness  ?" 

"  Yes,  your  Highness ;  but  she  is  more  beautiful,"  said 
the  latter,  who  could  not  gaze  at  Ottilie's  gentle,  noble 
features  without  emotion. 

"Now  look  at  Marie's  portrait." 

Heinrich  knit  his  brow  as  he  looked  at  the  picture.  "I 
should  not  have  the  courage  to  choose  this  lady.  Those 
eyebrows,  that  pouting,  scornful  mouth." 

"  Yes,  Ottilie's  pleases  me  far  better,"  said  the  prince. 

"  And  besides,  I  see  no  object  in  this  marriage.  What 

is  an  alliance  with  the  little  country  of  D to  a  prince 

like  your  Highness?  Princess  Ottilie,  on  the  contrary,  is 
immensely  rich ;  more  friendly  relations  with  the  court  of 

H would  be  desirable  in  every  respect,  and  Ottilie  is 

a  Catholic  ;  she  might — that  is " 

A  clock  struck  ten.     The  prince  started  up. 

"  The  council  must  begin.  Ottmar,  you  are  my  em- 
bassador ;  set  out  on  your  journey  to-morrow  morning, 

and  negotiate  the  matter  for  me  at  the  court  of  H . 

Consult  the  physicians,  and  if  you  think  it  advisable,  in 
God's  name  win  Ottilie  for  my  wife!  From  all  you  say 
she  will  be  best  suited  to  me.  The  sacrifice  must  be  made 
at  once.  Farewell  till  we  meet  in  the  council  of  state, 
dear  count." 

Thus  was  the  weal  or  woe  of  a  noble,  precious  life  de- 
cided, and  again  Heinrich's  egotism  demanded  a  victim. 
Accident  had  thrown  one  into  his  hands  in  the  person  of 
Ottilie.  HeinriclVs  resolution  was  firm.  He  knew  that 

14 


158  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

if  Ottilie  became  his  protectress  at  the  court  of  X 

bis  power  would  be  unbounded  and  immovable;  for  he 
did  not  doubt  that  with  IHT  intellect  she  must  succeed  in 
ruling  the  prince  as  well  as  the  country.  In  any  case, 
his  influence  over  her  was  more  assured  than  it  could  be 
over  a  princess  who  was  a  stranger  to  him ;  so  a  marriage 
with  the  latter  must  be  prevented  at  any  cost:  it  might 
baffle  all  his  hopes.  When  he  passed  through  the  ante- 
chamber, his  plan  was  already  formed,  and  around  his 
lips  played  the  triumphant  smile  which  was  always 
visible  when  he  guided  men  like  puppets.  Every  prepara- 
tion was  immediately  made  for  the  journey. 

"Anton,"  said  Heinrich,  during  the  packing,  "didn't 
vou  see  anything  of  Princess  Ottilie  on  your  way  through 
H ?»  ' 

"  No,  Herr  Baron.  She  seldom  drives  out,  for  she  is 
much  worse  than  she  used  to  be." 

"  Anton,  for  Heaven's  sake,  do  me  the  favor  not  to  tell 
any  one  that  1  Do  you  hear  ?  Finish  the  packing,  and 
then  go  this  very  night  to  the  Hohmeier'sche  Restaurant; 
there  you  will  find  the  valet  of  the  prince's  confessor, 
Ehrhardt, — they  will  point  him  out  to  you  if  you  ask  for 

him  ;  join  him  as  if  by  chance.  Tell  him  about  H , 

and  turn  the  conversation  upon  the  Princess  Ottilie.  Then 
say  what  you  know  of  her  beauty,  her  piety,  etc.  See 
that  you  have  as  many  listeners  as  possible, — the  more 
the  better.  Speak  of  her  hair,  her  eyes,  but  especially 
her  generosity  ;  in  short,  make  their  mouths  water,  but 
do  not  allow  any  design  to  be  perceived." 

"I  understand,  Herr  Baron,"  said  Anton,  smiling.  "I'll 
manage  as  carefully  as  possible,  and  to-morrow  the  whole 
city  shall  be  full  of  the  princess's  praises." 

"  That  is  right,  my  old  friend.  I  don't  think  you  forgot 
anything  in  the  village,"  said  Heinrich,  well  pleased. 

He  wanted  to  see  Cornelia  again,  but  the  evening  was 
spent  in  making  various  preparations  for  his  journey, 
and  his  plan  of  obtaining  Ottilie  for  the  prince  required 
thought  and  time  for  consideration.  He  would  compen- 
sate himself  for  the  sacrifice  after  his  return,  and  mean- 
time devote  himself  entirely  to  his  mission.  "  How  am  I 
to  appear  before  her? — how  am  I  to  woo  her  for  another 


THE  SEARCH  FOR   A    WIFE.  159 

without  offending  her,  when  I  know  that  she  has  loved 
me,  perhaps  does  still  ?"  This  question  engrossed  his 
mind,  and  its  difficulties  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  him. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  a  court  official  brought  a 
bill  of  exchange  for  five  thousand  florins  for  "  Count  Ott- 
rnar's  steward,  Albert  Preheim."  The  prince  had  given 
him  this  sum  from  his  own  private  purse  as  a  sort  of 
compensation  for  his  sufferings.  He  would  not  allow 
himself  to  be  humbled  by  Heinrich's  proud  reserve, 
and  thus  made  amends  for  the  injustice  which  had 
thrown  Albert  entirely  upon  Heiurich  for  assistance. 

Albert's  joy  knew  no  bounds,  but '  his  gratitude  to 
Heiurich,  whom  he  considered  the  indirect  cause  of 
this  favor,  was  even  greater.  Thus  they  set  out.  on 
their  journey,  Albert  and  Anton  as  happy  men,  while 
he  to  whom  both  owed  their  good  fortune,  whom  both 
loved  and  honored,  knew  no  happiness,  no  peace,  desti- 
tute of  support  in  himself,  and  unsympathizing  even 
towards  those  to  whom  he  showed  kindness.  Already 
the  city  lay  behind  him.  He  looked  back  towards  Cor- 
nelia's house,  from  thence  the  dawn  would  crimson  the 
horizon,  from  thence  his  sun  would  rise  to  pour  light  and 
warmth  upon  him,  and  with  foreboding  longing  he  gazed 
over  the  snow-covered  fields  towards  the  golden  streaks  in 
the  east.  The  morning  air  blew  icily  over  his  brow  ;  here 
and  there  under  the  snow  lay  dry  branches  of  frozen 
weeds;  not  a  bird,  not  an  insect,  was  stirring  far  or  near: 
frozen  nature  was  silently  awaiting  the  spring.  It  was 
even  so  with  him.  His  mission,  his  petty  intrigues,  every- 
thing at  that  moment  retreated  into  the  background,  and 
covered  itself  with  the  icy  mantle  of  eternal  indifference. 
From  that  strip  of  light  life  must  come  to  rescue  him 
and  lure  fresh  germs  from  the  frozen  clods.  The  rising 
sun  threw  its  rosy  glimmer  into  his  eyes  till  they  filled 
with  tears  ;  it  seemed  as  if  they  flowed  from  his  own 
breast,  as  if  his  own  feelings  and  not  the  light  had  called 
them  forth,  and  he  might  shed  more.  But  be  was  mis- 
taken, for  when  he  turned  his  eyes  from  the  dazzling  rays 
the  treacherous  fountain  dried.  The  unfeeling  man  could 
not  weep:  the  blessing  of  tears  was  denied  him  ;  and  the 
vanished  spell  left  the  egotist  cold  and  unsatisfied. 


160  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

XIII. 
A   SACRIFICE. 

DIRECTLY  after  his  arrival,  Heinrich  went  to  Ottilia's 
physician  to  make  inquiries  about  the  state  of  her  health. 
It  was  of  importance  to  himself  to  be  correctly  informed 
in  this  respect ;  for  it  would  have  been  very  useless  to 
base  his  ambitious  plans  upon  one  doomed  to  an  early 
death.  With  her,  these,  and  perhaps  even  the  favor  of 
the  prince,  might  sink  into  the  grave  ;  since  he  had  de- 
scribed her  as  healthy,  the  responsibility  would  fall  upon 
him  if  she  died.  The  physician,  it  is  true,  said  that  she 
was  delicate,  but,  according  to  the  principles  of  the  old 
school,  declared  that  her  illness  was  a  nervous  one ;  and 
Heinrich  boldly  requested  a  private  audience  with  Ottilie 
to  obtain  her  consent  before  he  presented  himself  to  the 
Prince  of  H as  an  ambassador. 

As  he  passed  through  the  antechamber,  a  fair-haired 
little  waiting-maid  issued  from  Ottilie's  room,  glided  by, 
starting  violently  as  she  caught  sight  of  him,  and  disap- 
peared through  a  side  door.  Heinrich  perceived  with 
astonishment  that  it  was  Roschen.  The  servant  ushered 
him  into  the  reception-room.  The  uniform,  unvarying 
stream  of  hot  air  from  a  Russian  stove  vibrated  around 
him  with  suffocating  sultriness,  increased  by  the  fragrance 
of  numberless  flowers  grouped  in  hot-house  fashion  in 
the  lofty  windows  of  stained  glass.  The  heavy  carpets 
and  portieres  exhaled  warmth  ;  it  seemed  to  Heinrich  as 
if  his  lungs  were  bursting  with  the  longing  for  a  breath 
of  fresh  air.  He  dreaded  this  first  meeting,  for  in  Ottilie's 
presence  his  insolent  frivolity  deserted  him,  and  he  stood 
before  her  as  if  she  were  his  conscience.  The  fervent 
heat  and  deathlike  stillness  that  surrounded  him  increased 
his  embarrassment.  There  is  something  strange  in  the 
official  silence  of  royal  apartments,  which  rouses  the 
greatest  excitement  and  impatience  in  any  one  who  is 
anxiously  awaiting  an  important  audience.  This  was  the 


A   SACRIFICE.  161 

case  with  Heinricli.  He  wished  to  repeat  what  he  was 
to  say  to  Ottilie,  but  could  no  longer  remember  it.  "How 
shall  1  appear  before  her?"  was  his  only  thought;  and 
the  polished  courtier  feared  this  great  soul  whose  pro- 
phetic vision  had  penetrated  his  inmost  heart,  and  which 
he  now  approached  like  a  thief,  to  try  to  steal  it  for  his 
own  plans. 

A  clock  struck  twelve,  and  was  answered  from  every 
side  by  a  multitude  of  larger  and  smaller  ones,  whose 
buzzing  and  humming  lasted  several  minutes  ;  then  all  was 
silent  as  before.  Heinrich  uttered  a  deep  sigh.  Why 
did  she  linger  so  long?  Was  she,  too,  obliged  to  collect  her 
thoughts,  and  could  she  not  obtain  the  composure  needed 
to  receive  him  ?  "  Oh,  God  1  if  she  should  love  me  still!" 
he  thought,  wiping  the  cold  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

Just  then  a  door  opened  noiselessly, — he  did  not  notice 
it, — and  Ottilie  floated  across  the  room  as  lightly  as  if  her 
feet  did  not  touch  the  carpet. 

Heinrich  started  as  if  roused  from  a  dream,  when, 
beautiful  as  a  glorified  spirit,  she  stood  before  him.  Both 
looked  at  each  other  a  moment  in  silence :  neither  could 
find  words;  their  souls  were  too  full  for  the  narrow  forms 
of  speech. 

At  last  Ottilie  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  there  was 
deep  sadness  in  her  expression  as  she  said,  "  Is  it  really 
you  ?" 

"  I  understand  the  reproof  in  your  question,  princess," 
replied  Heinrich.  "I  was  prepared  for  it;  and  yet  ac- 
companied with  that  voice  and  glance,  it  now  pierces  deep 
into  my  breast.  As  the  ambassador  of  my  princely  master, 
I  had  courage  to  appear  before  you — as  your  friend.  My 
heart  trembles,  for  1  well  know  I  shall  not  bear  your  sub- 
lime, angelic  judgment." 

Ottilie  motioned  to  him  to  be  seated.  "Yes,"  she  be- 
gan, after  a  pause,  "  I  had  wished  to  see  you  a  different 
man,  and  I  do  not  even  know  whether  I  still  have  the 
right  to  tell  you  so." 

"  Speak!  heap  upon  my  head  the  whole  burden  of  your 
accusation,  princess." 

"  Do  not  fear  reproaches  from  me.  All  that  there  is  to 
be  said  I  represented  to  you,  if  I  remember  rightly,  long 

14* 


162  .4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

ago.     You  did  not  obey  my  warning  voice;  what  was 
useless  then  will  also  be  vain  now." 

Heinrich  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  as  if  obligefl 
to  conceal  his  tears;  and  yet  it  was  not  all  hypocrisy,  for 
it  really  seemed  to  him  as  if  a  pang  of  remorse  shot 
through  his  breast. 

Ottilie  remained  silent  for  a  long  time. 

"Be  merciful,  princess,"  pleaded  Heinrich;  "you  re- 
proach me  with  my  change  of  opinions,  but  you  do  not 
know  what  may  exert  an  influence  over  a  life,  how  even 
the  most  independent  man  may  be  forced  into  a  course 
contrary  to  his  wishes,  and  where  he  must  be  untrue  to 
himself;  therefore  be  charitable,  princess;  do  not  give 
me  up!" 

"Ah,  how  could  I!"  exclaimed  Ottilie,  in  an  outburst 
of  feeling.  "  Do  you  not  see  that  I  grieve  for  you,  pity 
you,  deeply  and  sincerely  ?  I  do  not  accuse  you ;  but  let 
me  lament  that  you  have  defrauded  yourself  of  all  true 
happiness.  Do  not  tell  me  the  career  you  have  adopted 
satisfies  you  ;  in  it  you  can  neither  follow  your  own  con- 
victions nor  develop  your  talents.  I  speak  now  as  a 
woman  who  has  done  with  self,  who  is  bound  to  life  by 
no  wish,  no  hope.  What  have  you  made  of  yourself, 
Ottmar?  How  have  you  used  the  gifts  God  so  richly, 
so  abundantly,  bestowed  '{  I  have  carefully  watched  your 
political  activity;  alas  that  I  must  say  it!  you  have 
fallen  lower  in  my  eyes  the  higher  you  rose  in  the  world. 
Forgive  the  harshness,''  she  pleaded,  extending  her  hand 
to  him,  "  it  is  the  most  heartfelt  anxiety  that  speaks  from 
my  lips.  Do  you  not  see  the  double  danger  to  which  you 
are  exposed?  You  are  robbing  yourself  of  your  moral 
freedom  as  well  as  the  nation  of  its  political  rights;  you 
sire  servilely  bending  your  noble  soul  to  the  dominion  of 
principles  in  which  you  do  not  believe,  making  yourself 
the  slavish  supporter  of  an  impotent  reaction.  Thus  you 
are  losing  your  intrinsic  dignity,  and  sooner  or  later  your 
influence  as  a  statesman  ;  for  a  new  and  invincible  spirit, 
purer  than  that  of  the  revolution,  is  pervading  the  nations, 
— the  spirit  of  a  profound  political  knowledge.  We  cannot 
subdue  this  with  cannon,  nor  shut  it  into  prisons  ;  where 
we  believe  it  to  be  shattered,  it  unites  again  above  our 


A    SACRIFICE.  163 

heads.  It  is  the  child  of  the  age,  and  unceasingly  ad- 
vances, demanding1  its  rights.  And  you,  instead  of 
throwing  yourself  into  the  free  current  and  allowing  your 
breast  to  expand  with  the  universal  impulse,  prop  your- 
self with  narrow-hearted  blindness  against  the  crumbling 
steps  of  a  throne,  to  withstand  the  weight  of  the  ap- 
proaching shock.  You  will  fall,  and  as  au  enemy  of  ideas 
which  you  cherish  with  every  drop  of  your  blood,  fall  a 
victim  to  your  hypocrisy,  not  your  convictions.  Then 
you  will  seek  to  h'ud  compensation  in  yourself,  and  per- 
ceive with  despair  that  by  your  perpetual  untruthfulness 
you  have  destroyed  yourself." 

"  It  is  very  possible,"  murmured  Heinrich. 

"  Oh,  believe  me,  through  many  a  sleepless  night  I 
have  stretched  out  my  hand  to  you  to  draw  you  out  of 
the  gulf  into  which  I  saw  you  sinking.  Yet  I  still  trust 
you  ;  what  you  did  could  not  estrange  me.  I  still  hope, 
still  pray  for  you  ;  I  can  say  no  more  than  I  have  already 
done  ;  but  1  know  that  although  you  have  not  yet  listened 
to  me,  quiet  hours  will  come,  hours  of  repentance,  when 
my  long  silent  words  will  unite  with  the  voice  of  your 
conscience, — then,  perhaps,  you  will  obey  me." 

Heinrich  seized  Ottilie's  hands  and  gazed  into  her 
sparkling  eyes.  A  deep  blush  was  glowing  upon  her 
cheeks.  "Ah,  the  old  magic!  Ottilie,  Ottilie,"  he  cried, 
"  I  fear  I  am  too  deeply  entangled  in  hypocrisy !  If  you 
could  read  my  soul  you  would  reject  me." 

"  This  is  one  of  the  moments  of  depression  which 
utterly  subdue  such  natures  To-morrow,  in  another 
mood,  you  will  smile  at  it.  But  it  is  true  that  you  think 
yourself  worse  than  you  really  are,  that  you  have  less 
faith  in  yourself  than  I  in  you.  Every  power  needs  to 
be  used,  even  that  of  the  soul.  Exert  your  strength  in 
doing  right,  then  you  will  first  ascei'tain  your  own  capa- 
bilities." 

"Ah,  princess,  how  am  I  to  help  myself?  I  know 
not;  I  have  gone  astray  into  this  path,  and  cannot  find 
strength  to  retrace  my  steps.  I  am  well  aware  that  my 
political  career  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of 
the  age  ;  when  I  entered  upon  it  I  really  had  no  .other 
thought  than  to  save  myself  from  a  momentary  humilia- 


164  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

tion  by  the  Jesuits,  and  therefore  considered  my  position 

in  N a  mere  episode.     But  by  degrees  my  success, 

and  the  magnificent  means  at  my  command  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  my  apparent  purposes,  charmed  me.  My 
influence  over  the  prince  tempted  me  irresistibly.  The 
power  he  placed  in  my  hands  roused  all  the  ambition  of 
my  nature.  Power,  Ottilie,  has  often  transformed  a  hero 
into  a  despot.  This  being  the  history  of  my  political 
development,  everything  else  follows  as  a  matter  of 
course.  As  everything  was  at  the  command  of  the  feared 
and  admired  favorite,  I  felt  myself  justified  in  enjoying 
all.  That,  in  so  doing,  I  formed  many  a  sacred  tie  only 
to  break  it  again,  and  profaned  many  a  bond  that  already 
existed, — everything  was  considered  allowable,  because 
everything  was  granted  to  me, — you  will  of  course  sup- 
pose. But  I  will  confess  to  you,  to  you  alone  of  all  hu- 
man beings,  that  this  haughty,  envied  Ottmar  became  a 
crushed,  wearied,  joyless  man,  an  egotist, — who  does  not 
even  love  himself.  J  can  no  longer  distinguish  between 
truth  and  falsehood;  for  everything  has  two  sides,  and, 
as  no  voice  within  my  breast  pleads  for  either,  I  decide 
in  favor  of  the  one  which  will  bring  me  the  most  immediate 
advantage.  There  is  no  philanthropy  in  my  nature,  and 
thus  I  make  men  happy  or  miserable  according  as  it  will 
be  profitable  or  injurious  to  myself.  I  perceive  that  all 
this  is  reprehensible;  I  envy  those  who  act  from  prin- 
ciple ;  I  would  fain  be  virtuous,  yet  cannot  discover  what 
virtue  is;  for  my  blase  feelings  make  me  perceive,  in  all 
the  dogmas  of  religion,  morality,  and  philosophy,  only 
arbitrary  beliefs  without  any  eternal  foundation,  which 
change  at  every  advance  of  the  nations  in  civilization,  are 
now  wrested  here,  now  there,  nay,  even  dependent  upon 
the  fashion  of  the  day;  and  thus  I  have  formed  the  de- 
spairing conclusion,  that  there  is  no  virtue,  believe  the 
loathing  of  my  own  deeds  which  sometimes  seizes  upon 
me  to  be  a  relic  of  old  school  prejudices,  and  despise  my- 
self. Therefore  I  have  no  rule  of  conduct  for  my  acts 
except  advantage  ;  and  when  this  is  obtained,  it  does  not 
make  me  happy.  I  scorn  it,  as  well  as  the  men  by  whose 
weakness  I  won  it !" 

Ottilie  had  hung  upon  his  words  in  breathless  suspense. 


A   SACRIFICE.  165 

This  frank  self-accusation  had  borne  her  along  with  it, 
and  she  was  obliged  to  collect  her  thoughts  before  she 
could  reply. 

"  Then  you  are  even  more  unhappy,  more  worthy  of 
commiseration,  than  I  feared.  All  lofty,  independent  na- 
tures yield  unwillingly  to  the  human  law  of  right  and 
wrong;  for  the  same  power  which  instilled  the  theories 
of  goodness  lives  also  in  them  and  justifies  them  in  giving 
its  law  to  themselves.  But  in  you,  my  friend,  this  power 
was  only  sufficient  to  dissolve  existing  beliefs,  not  to  make 
them  unnecessary  to  you,  for  you  are  now  wandering,  un- 
supported, without  any  clear  standard  of  measurement, 
amid  the  ruins  of  your  shattered  world  of  ideas.  You 
are  seeking  for  a  higher  divine  law,  and  because  it  does 
not  reveal  itself  to  you  you  despair  of  virtue.  It  would 
be  useless  to  refer  you  to  religion,  for  you  do  not  believe 
it;  but  even  without  religion  a  man  of  lofty  character 
feels  a  moral  want,  which,  without  regard  to  reward  or 
punishment,  impels  him  toward  the  right.  Though  such 
a  man  is  never  quite  happy,  for  only  faith  can  give  the 
highest  joy,  he  will  yet  experience  that  peace  which  a 
pure  conscience  bestows.  But  you  have  destroyed  even 
this.  Your  heart  is  desolate,  your  soul  flutters  wearily 
upon  the  ground.  I  no  longer  see  deliverance,  blessing, 
or  hope  for  you.  So  I  must  behold  the  fairest  work  God 
and  nature  ever  made,  the  noble  image  in  which  I  joy 
with  reverent  admiration,  sink  into  the  dust,  and  stand 
powerless,  unable  to  stretch  out  a  hand  to  save  for  God 
a  soul  which  he  has  favored  beyond  all  others.  Alas, 
Ottmar  !  By  the  sorrow  in  my  own  heart,  I  feel  how 
your  Creator  mourns  over  you  !"  She  leaned  back  upon 
the  sofa  and  wept  aloud. 

Heinrich  could  not  resist  the  contagion  of  her  emotion. 
For.  the  first  time  the  request  he  was  about  to;  make 
seemed  like  sacrilege,  and  yet  he  could  not  give  up  all 
his  carefully  matured  plans  for  the  sake  of  a  "  fit  of  senti- 
mentality," as  he  mentally  called  it.  He  perceived  that 
she  clung  to  him  with  unchanging  affection,  and  that  no 
political  considerations  whatever  would  induce  her  to  wed 
with  such  a  nature  as  that  of  the  prince.  If  he  won  her, 
»  it  would  only  be  by  means  of  his  influence  over  the  heart 


166  -4    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

so  susceptible  to  his  power.  Years  before  she  had  taken 
an  oath  that  she  would  never  become  his  wife,  so  sin: 
must  either  part  with  him  or  marry  his  ruler.  The  more 
she  loved  him  the  greater  was  his  power  over  her,  the 
more  surely  lie  would  succeed  in  convincing  her  that  sht; 
could  not  live  without  him.  Thus  he  was  compelled  to 
throw  the  whole  weight  of  his  own  personal  attractions 
into  the  scale,  and  there  was  a  strange  blending  of  honesty 
and  hypocrisy  in  his  plan  of  persuasion,  lie  really  felt 
what  he  wished  to  say,  but  his  manner  of  turning  it  to 
account  was  artfully  calculated,  and  converted  truth  into 
falsehood.  "Your  Highness.''  IK;  exclaimed,  at  last,  "  I 
have  come  to  bring  you  a  crow'n";  but  at  this  moment  I 
see  a  halo  shining  around  your  head,  and  can  scarcely 
venture  to  offer  the  pitiful  diadem  of  royalty.  Princess, 
it  is  of  great  importance  to  tuy  interests  to  bind  you  to 
the  country  in  which  I  play  a  part ;  I  came  here  to  obtain 
your  hand  for  the  prince,  to  cunningly  win  your  consent, 
even  at  the  cost  of  your  happiness.  Hut  before  your  noble 
nature  all  the  arts  of  diplomacy  dissolve  into  nothing. 
Therefore,  my  friend,  I  will  leave  you  free  to  choose,  will 
not  steal  the  decision  of  your  destiny,  but  tell  you  frankly 
that  it  is  from  selfishness  1  press  my  master's  offer,  for  I 
wish,  I  long,  to  have  you  near  me.  Your  character  is 
formed,  your  opinions  are  matured,  you  will  advise  me 
when  God  is  silent  in  my  own  breast.  You  will  aid  me 
to  give  a  new  direction  fo  our  politics,  one  more  in  har- 
mony with  the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  supported  by  you,  I  will 
venture  it,  without  you  I  cannot.  Look,  Ottilie,  the  crafty 
diplomatist  is  prostrate  in  the  dust  before  your  victorious 
truthfulness,  and  prattles  out  his  whole  programme  like  a 
school-boy.  I  do  not  plead  for  the  country  whose  salvation 
you  would  be,  nor  in  the  name  of  a  philanthropy  i  have 
never  known,  but  by  which  I  might  win  your  gentle 
heart;  I  do  not  implore  you  to  aid  a  nation  1  helped  to 
crush:  I  renounce  all  this  acting,  and  plead  simply  and 
openly  for  myself;  for  in  this  hour  I  perceive  more  clearly 
than  ever  what  you  are  to  me.  If  I  have  hitherto  thought 
I  needed  you  for  the  attainment  of  certain  advantages,  I 
now  know  that  you  will  do  more  for  me  by  teaching  me 
to  despise  as  well  as  dispense  with  them." 


A   SACRIFICE.  167 

Ottilie  gazed  silently  into  vacancy ;  her  breath  came 
more  quickly,  and  her  hands  were  burning  as  though 
with  fever. 

'•  I  know,"  continued  Heinrich,  "  that  it  is  the  sacrifice 
of  your  whole  life;  but  you  have  yourself  given  me  the 
courage  to  ask  it,  for  you  give  me  the  belief  that  you  will 
make  it." 

"Oh,  God  I  what  do  you  ask?"  Ottilie  began.  "You 
wish  me  to  marry,~4o  destroy  my  life!  Is  it  possible? 
Have  I  deserved  this  from  you  ?  You  wish  to  lure  me 
from  my  home  to  a  desolate  career  of  grandeur,  to  chain 
me  to  a  man  whom  I  know  to  be  a  cold-hearted  weakling, 
and  scorn  as  a  mere  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  oppressors 
of  his  people.  And  by  the  painful  act  I  am  to  perform  I 
do  not  even  make  one  person  happy." 

"  Ottilie,  how  can  you  say  so?  Thousands  will  lavish 
blessings  upon  you,  the  gratitude  of  thousands  will  re- 
compense you,  if  the  happiness  of  one  whom  your  pres- 
ence can  transform  into  another  man  does  not  reward 
you,"  cried  Heinrich,  reproachfully. 

"  Ottmar,  if  I  knew  that  I  should  be  permitted  to  exert 
a  good  influence  over  you,  no  sacrifice  would  seem  too 
great.  But  you  are  deceiving  yourself  now,  as  usual. 
You  are  easily  moved, 'easily  excited :  the  moment  carries 
you  away  with  it ;  the  present  person  is  in  the  right  with 
you,  and  when  you  turn  your  back  upon  this  room  the 
emotions  you  have  experienced  will  be  effaced  with  all 
their  impressions.  What  influence  did  I  exert  over  you 

while  you  lived  in  H ?  It  would  be  precisely  the 

same  thing  again,  and  then  I  should  not  even  be  allowed 
the  one  consolation  of  mourning  for  you  unheeded,  in 
quiet  solitude." 

"  Do  you  think  me  so  unstable?" 

"  Confess,  my  friend,  that  you  have  given  me  proofs  of 
it.  Besides,  you  are  mistaken  if  you  hope  to  obtain 
goodness  from  any  influence  whatever.  The  true  man 
is  everything  to  himself;  what  he  does  not  become  by  his 
own  strength,  no  other  can  make  him.  A  character  that 
depends  upon  influences  is  unmanly;  the  acts  and  de- 
velopments of  such  a  temperament  are  decided  solely  by 
ever-changing  accidents.  Prosperity  has  spoiled  you  ; 


168  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

you  have  measured  your  powers  only  against  those 
weaker  than  yourself;  they  have  thereby  become  relaxed ; 
and,  if  destiny  does  not  compel  you  to  put  forth  your 
strength  in  a  contact  with  more  powerful  elements,  all  is 
vain,  you  will  remain "  She  paused. 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  Heinrich,  bitterly  ;  "  I  shall  remain 
a  characterless  weakling,  who  balances  to  and  fro  like  a 
juggler  on  the  narrow  line  between  right  and  wrong  !  Js 
uot  that  what  you  meant  to  say  ?" 

Ottilie  gazed  into  his  beautiful,  restless  eyes  with  an 
expression  of  deep  sorrow.  "  Forgive  me  if  I  have  caused 
you  pain ;  I  only  wished  to  convince  you  that  the  use 
which  I  might  be  to  you  is  too  little  for  the  sacrifice  you 
demand." 

Heinrich  felt  the  moment  for  persuading  her  had  now 
arrived  ;  for  he  knew  by  experience  that  a  woman  can 
never  be  more  easily  won  than  at  the  moment  she  believes 
she  has  been  too  harsh. 

"You  feel  you  have  caused  me  pain,  Ottilie.  Oh,  make 
amends  for  it,  and  follow  me  to  my  country  as  my  pro- 
tectress, my  guardian  angel !  You  reproach  me  with 
being  unmanly.  Well,  if  I  am  so,  and  depend  upon  in- 
fluences, the  one  you  exert  over  me  will  be  my  salvation, 
and  that  of  all  with  whom  I  am  connected  by  any  ties. 
What  do  I  ask  of  you  that  is  so  very  terrible  ?  I  wish 
to  make  you  mistress  of  a  beautiful  and  wealthy  land,  to 
give  you  a  position  in  which  alone  your  superior  qualities 
can  make  themselves  valuable,  wed  you  to  a  prince  whom 
you  greatly  undervalue,  and  who  will  understand  and  love 
you  as  you  deserve." 

"I  want  no  love,"  interrupted  Ottilie,  "I  am  weary 
of  suffering ;  do  not  grudge  me  my  repose ;  I  have,  by  a 
violent  struggle,  obtained  the  peace  of  the  grave.  Oh, 
do  uot  drag  me  back  to  life!  for  life  is  conflict.  Ah,  Ott- 
mar,  have  pity  upon  me !  Your  glance  sinks  into  my 
soul,  and  the  spark  that  flashes  from  it  kindles  anew  the 
vital  flame  which  was  buried  beneath  the  ashes  of  my 
dead  hopes.  You  seize  my  hand,  and  by  some  magnetic 
attraction  I  am  compelled  to  follow  you.  I  know  not  by 
what  invisible  threads  you  hold  me:  loose  them  and  I 
sink  peacefully  towards  the  grave ;  draw  them  firmly  and 


A  SACRIFICE.  169 

I  am  forced  to  yield  to  your  wishes.  Ob,  the  victory  you 
obtain  is  an  easy  one  1  Renounce  it,  leave  me,  Ottmar  1 
You  can  test  your  power  everywhere;  why  must  you  try 
it  on  one  who  has  no  longer  any  defense  save  the  resigna- 
tion of  a  dying  woman  ?" 

"  Good  heavens,  princess,  what  a  strange  mood  you 
are  in  !  See,  this  is  the  result  of  your  seclusion.  Whence 
come  these  thoughts  of  the  grave  ?  You  are  healthy,  in 
the  very  prime  of  life,  beloved  by  all,  regarded  by  the 
nation  with  the  warmest  affection.  How  could  you  resign 
yourself  to  such  melancholy  fancies  ?  Nay,  I  will  rouse 
you  now.  You  must  learn  to  use  your  vital  powers,  as 
well  as  I  my  moral  strength.  Why  should  you  wither 
here,  useless  and  lonely,  without  having  fulfilled  the  eter- 
nal vocation  of  a  woman?  Even  if  you  have  no  feeling 
for  the  man  to  whom  I  wish  to  unite  you,  you  do  not 
know  that  he  may  not  become  dear  to  you." 

Ottilie  sadly  shook  her  head. 

"  But  granted  that  you  can  never  love  him  as  a  hus- 
band, you  will  some  day  as  the  father  of  your  children. 
Fate  has  granted  no  desire  of  your  heart,  and  with  royal 
dignity  you  have  learned  to  crush  it ;  but,  because  the 
first  joy  of  love  was  denied  you,  must  you  now  also  re- 
nounce the  maternal  happiness  this  marriage  can  bestow, 
— the  only  one  which  is  a  wellspring  of  lasting  joy  to  a 
woman?  I  cannot  believe,  Ottilie,  that  with  your  pure, 
womanly  feelings,  the  thought  of  being  a  mother  would 
have  no  charm  for  you." 

"  Oh,  God  !  I  have  often  dreamed  of  such  bliss ;  but  I 
am  not  born  for  it.  I  shall  perish  without  object  or  joy 
in  life." 

"  Do  not  believe  it,"  said  Heinrich,  with  melting  ten- 
derness. "  Rise  again  in  the  strength  of  hope ;  a  pros- 
perous future  is  still  before  you.  You  will  find  the  prince 
a  man  full  of  delicacy  of  feeling  and  dignity,  a  man  formed 
to  understand  you.  He,  too,  bears  a  secret  sorrow  in  his 
heart,  and  needs  a  wife  who  will  know  and  pity  the 
wound." 

"  Alas,  poor  prince  !"  murmured  Ottilie.  "  That  would 
rouse  my  sympathy  for  him." 

Heinrich  suppressed  a  smile.  "  Do  you  perceive  the 
H  15 


170  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

true  state  of  the  case  ?  You  will  become  attached  to  him, 
for  he  is  noble  and  wishes  to  do  good  to  all.  His  despotic 
principles  are  rooted  in  his  education  ;  to  him  despotism 
is  an  absolute  dogma,  like^  religion.  He  now  depends 
upon  his  confessor  and  upon  me, — errors  which  are  the 
result  of  his  youth.  When  you  are  his  wife,  he  will,  like 
all  of  us,  rely  on  you.  But  even  if  you  could  never  pro- 
duce any  change  in  his  maxims  of  government,  you  will, 
perhaps,  have  the  satisfaction  of  inculcating  into  the 
mind  of  a  son  what  you  have  vainly  tried  to  obtain  from 
the  father,  and  through  the  former  obtain  for  your  people 
the  fulfillment  of  their  dearest  hopes.  Then,  Ottilie,  your 
name  will  be  blessed  by  thousands  and  recorded  in  his- 
tory ;  then  you  may  bend  to  death  your  royal  brow,  armed 
with  the  noble  words,  'I  have  not  lived  in  vain!'  Oh, 
I  know  you  will  some  day  smile  at  the  thought  of  the 
time  when  you  were  consuming  away  in  fruitless  dreams, 
and  could  find  strength  neither  to  live  nor  die!  Then  I 
shall  perhaps  stand  as  your  most  faithful  servant  at  the 
steps  of  the  throne  to  which  you  gave  new  splendor,  and 
a  friendly  glance,  radiant  with  the  pleasure  of  ruling  and 
giving  happiness,  will  be  my  highest  reward,  my  greatest 
satisfaction.  Take  courage,  Ottilie,  and  gain  new  strength 
to  live,  to  rule,  to  make  others  happy." 

Ottilie's  breath  came  more  and  more  quickly,  as,  follow- 
ing Heinrich's  movements,  she  rose  from  her  seat.  Her 
sparkling  eyes  were  fixed  upon  his  lips,  and  a  ray  of 
melancholy  pride  flashed  over  her  face.  "  Ottmar,  you 
have  conquered.  Happy  I  can  never  be,  so  let  us  try 
whether  I  can  still  accomplish  some  good." 

"Then  I  have  your  promise,  princess?  You  think  me 
right?" 

"  You  are  right ;  yet  it  is  not  that  conviction,  but  a 
secret  necessity,  which  impels  me  to  obey  you,  although 
I  feel  it  will  be  my  death.  In  you,  I  am  well  aware,  my 
destiny  is  fulfilled;  you  have  made  me  the  prince's  wife, 
you  overmaster  me  by  your  powerful  will,  and  call  from 
my  lips  the  'yes'  that  you  ask,  and  I  am  forced  to  utter 
it,  no  matter  for  whom.  I  must  utter  it  because  you 
ask  it." 

Heinrich   was   perplexed  by  this   outburst   of  long- 


A   SACRIFICE.  171 

repressed  feeling.  The  seriousness  of  his  relations  with 
Cornelia  had  already  taken  so  deep  a  root  in  his  nature 
that  none  of  that  frivolous  delight  which  overwhelms 
vain  men  at  the  sight  of  their  conquests  stirred  within 
him.  On  the  contrary,  a  holy  awe  seized  upon  him  at  the 
sight  of  the  frank  truthfulness  of  an  omnipotent  feeling. 
But  he  did  not  understand  that  this  very  feeling  no  longer 
needed  to  disguise  itself;  because,  by  self-renunciation,  it 
had  become  purified  and  transfigured.  He  therefore 
thought  himself  obliged  to  lead  Ottilie's  feelings,  as  far 
as  possible,  back  to  their  former  moderation,  and  yet 
dared  not  wound  this  sore  heart  by  coldness.  "  Ottilie," 
he  said,  at  last,  after  a  long  pause,  with  an  air  of  sorrow- 
ful resignation,  "  princess,  do  not  make  it  too  difficult 
for  me  to  perform  my  duty  as  suitor  in  my  prince's  place. 
I  might  forget  that  I  now  stand  before  you  as  your  sub- 
ject, who  no  longer  dares  desire  what  belongs  to  his 
master  I" 

Ottilie  looked  at  him  earnestly.  "  Ottrnar,  that  recol- 
lection would  shame  me  if  I  could  suppose  you  did  not 
remember  the  oath  I  took  in  your  presence  years  ago,  and 
doubted  the  firmness  of  my  resolution.  But  that  you 
cannot  do;  you  will  not  inflict  upon  me  the  humiliation 
of  seeing  myself  misunderstood  by  you.  I  belong  to  your 
prince, — my  heart  to  the  past." 

"  Then  let  me  offer  you  the  first  homage  as  my  princess, 
my  saint!"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  and  sank  on  one  knee  to 
kiss  her  hand. 

"  The  saints  are  above,"  whispered  Ottilie,  waving  him 
back.  "May  they  take  us  under  their  protection  !" 

Heinrich  did  not  notice  that  it  was  difficult  for  her  to 
stand  erect  while  she  dismissed  him,  and  armed  with 
Ottilie's  consent,  pressed  forward  as  unyielding  as  fate. 
With  this  promise,  he  held  in  imagination  the  portfolio 
which  was  to  be  the  price  of  his  years  of  self-deception. 
That  he  would  rule  where  Ottilie  reigned  was  to  him  a 
matter  of  course ;  to  secure  her  influence  over  the  prince 
should  be  his  care,  and  to  rule  appeared  to  him  the  only 
really  valuable  gift  in  life.  To  assert  his  power  every- 
where, to  use  the  terrible  will  which  had  divided  his  own 
nature  according  to  his  pleasure,  to  let  it  weigh  upon  a 


172  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

whole  country  bending  before  him,  to  promise  joy  or  sor- 
row by  his  smile  or  frown, — this  alone  seemed  divine,  and 
could  make  him  resemble  God.  He  confidently  expected 
to  be  appointed  ambassador  extraordinary  to  conduct  the 
affair  of  the  marriage;  the  prince  had  no  one  more  suit- 
able, no  one  with  whom  his  relations  were  so  intimate. 
He  reported  Ottilie's  consent,  and  requested  further  in- 
structions, then  arranged  his  own  and  Albert's  business 
in  regard  to  the  estate,  which  was  very  badly  managed. 

Albert  sought  Rdschen  at  her  father's  house,  and  learned 
that  since  the  death  of  Ottilie's  head  waiting-maid,  which 
had  occurred  two  years  before,  she  had  filled  her  place. 
Heinrich  smiled  when  he  heard  this;  he  readily  perceived 
that  love  for  him  had  induced  Ottilie  to  keep  near  her 
person  the  young  girl  he  had  tried  to  win  ;  for  true  love 
embraces  not  only  its  object  but  everything  connected 
with  it.  He  had  already  often  observed  how  noble 
womanly  natures  did  not  hate  those  of  whom  they  were 
jealous,  but  treated  them  with  sorrowful  tenderness,  how 
they  kissed  them  as  if  seeking  on  their  cheeks  and  lips 
traces  of  their  lover's  caresses.  As  we  keep  a  flower  or 
a  handkerchief  because  the  absent  one  has  touched  it, 
Ottilie  had  taken  Ro'schen  into  her  service  to  inhale  from 
her  presence  the  lingering  breath  of  his  love. 

Poor  Ottilie ! 

The  prince  kept  him  waiting  a  long  time  for  his  in- 
structions, and  Ottmar  began  to  grow  weary  of  his  in- 
cognito. "Albert,"  said  he  one  day,  "you  don't  seem  to 
have  any  great  desire  to  see  your  Rdschen.  Try  to 
arrange  a  meeting  with  her,  and  let  me  be  a  secret  witness 
of  it ;  I  should  like,  for  a  change,  to  be  present  at  such  a 
touching  scene." 

"  I  have  settled  it  with  her  father  that  I  am  to  have  an 
interview  next  Sunday,  Herr  Count,"  replied  Albert. 
"  Roschen  cannot  leave  the  palace  whenever  she  chooses, 
so  I  must  wait.  But,  if  you  are  tired, — excuse  the  bold- 
ness of  mv  question, — why  don't  you  write  to  the  Prison 
Fairy?" 

"  To  the  Prison  Fairy  ?  Why,  my  good  fellow,  you 
don't  understand  such  matters.  I  neglect  it  because  I 
wish  her  to  love  me." 


A    SACRIFICE.  173 

"  No,  I  don't  understand  it,"  cried  Albert.  "  If  that  is 
what  you  waut,  I  should  think  you  would  be  obliged  to 
write  to  her  at  once." 

Heinrich  smilingly  shook  his  head.  '•  Blessed  sim- 
plicity !  Ten  letters  would  not  have  the  success  obtained 
by  the  weeks  of  anxiety  in  which  she  has  brooded  over 
my  silence." 

Albert  looked  at  Heinrich  almost  sorrowfully.  "  But 
you  have  caused  her  pain.  How  can  any  one  wish  to 
grieve  a  creature  he  loves  ?" 

"She  will  be  all  the  happier  in  my  affection  after- 
wards." 

Albert  was  painfully  agitated,  but  kept  silence;  and  in 
a  few  moments  turned  to  leave  the  room,  murmuring, 
"poor  Prison  Fairy  !" 

On  the  same  day  a  letter  arrived  from  the  prince,  con- 
taining instructions  to  make  an  official  request  for  the 
hand  of  Ottilie,  and  appointing  him  ambassador  extraor- 
dinary. Heinricli's  duties  now  began.  It  was  a  great 
satisfaction  to  him  to  play  a  distinguished  part  at  the 
very  court  from  which  he  had  been  so  ignominiously  dis- 
missed ;  and  when,  in  a  private  audience  with  the  Prince 

of  H- ,  he  presented  his  credentials,  and  the  request 

for  an  alliance  with  Ottilie,  written  by  his  master's  own 
hand,  he  was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  his  embarrass- 
ment, and  felt  fully  conscious  of  his  own  importance. 
The  prince,  pleased  with  the  proposal  made  to  his  niece, 
overwhelmed  him  with  marks  of  honor,  which  he  accepted 
rery  condescendingly,  almost  patronizingly. 

"  Herr  Count,"  said  the  old  man,  "you  have  shamed 
us  deeply ;  for  I  know  it  is  to  you  we  owe  this  great 
piece  of  good  fortune,  and  do  not  deserve  it  at  your 
hands." 

"  Your  Highness,"  replied  Heinrich,  "  I  joyfully  seized 
upon  this  opportunity  of  proving  that  my  loyalty  to  your 
royal  house  is  greater  than  the  sense  of  the  mortification 
I  suffered." 

"  You  are  a  noble  man,  count,"  said  the  prince,  pressing 
his  hand;  "our  political  opinions  are  dissimilar,  but  I 
have  the  highest  respect  for  your  character." 

Heinrich  bowed  low  and  smiled  as  he  thought:  "If  I 
15* 


174  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

do  not  soon  believe  myself  a  noble  man,  modesty  will  be 
my  greatest  fault." 

The  solemn  betrothal  at  last  took  place,  and  Ottilie 
remained  firm.  In  the  presence  of  what  was  now  un- 
alterable, and  before  the  eyes  of  her  court,  she  was  every 
inch  a  princess.  Pale,  and  almost  as  inanimate  as  a 
marble  statue,  she  went  through  the  usual  ceremonies; 
but  not  the  slightest  change  of  countenance  betrayed  the 
conflict  within.  A  weary  smile  sometimes  curved  her 
delicate  lips  ;  but  even  this  was  conventional ;  her  eyes 
did  not  join  in  it :  the  same  shadow  lingered  in  their 
depths ;  and  when  she  had  coldly  and  firmly  signed  the 
deed,  it  seemed  to  Heinrich  as  if  her  manner  conveyed 
a  gentle  reproach.  Her  glance  rested  upon  him  as  if  to 
say,  "You  have  conquered,  cruel  man,  and  I  am  your 
victim."  The  look  haunted  him  incessantly,  and  long 
after  the  ceremony  was  over  he  felt  as  if  there  was  a 
weight  upon  his  heart,  as  if  the  deed  he  was  to  take  to 
his  master  was  stolen  property,  from  which  the  mute  re- 
proach in  Ottilie's  glance  constantly  warned  him.  He 
had  no  compassion  for  the  sufferings  of  this  noble  nature, 
deceived  by  all  ;  but  he  perceived  that  there  was  a  fiend- 
ish mockery  in  adorning  such  misery  with  the  colors  of 
joy.  We  have  pity  upon  a  sick  animal,  and  let  it  die  in 
peace  ;  but  he  dragged  a  writhing,  dying  heart  to  a  bridal 
mummery.  It  was  devil's  work,  he  confessed  it  to  him- 
self; and  yet — the  deed  could  not  now  be  undone.  Why 
did  she  allow  herself  to  be  so  easily  persuaded  ? 

Meantime  Albert's  interview  with  Roschen  had  taken 
place,  but  led  to  no  union.  Roschen  declared  she  would 
gladly  become  his  wife  and  atone  for  the  wrong  she  had 
done  him,  if  she  did  not  know  that  the  poor  princess 
needed  her  more  than  any  one  else  in  the  world.  She 
was  very  unhappy,  and  there  was  no  one  to  whom  she 
could  betray  her  feelings.  Only  a  short  time  before, 
when  she  found  Ottilie  half  fainting  and  in  tears,  the 
princess  said,  "You  will  stay  with  me,  Roschen,  if  I. go 
to  a  foreign  country,  will  you  not?  you  will  stay  with  me 
as  long  as  I  live,  that  I  may  have  one  true,  faithful  soul 
near  me  ?"  Then  Roschen  had  promised  never  to  leave 
her,  and  she  would  keep  her  word. 


A    SACRIFICE.  175 

Albert  asked  why  the  princess  was  unhappy,  but  Ros- 
chen  said  she  did  not*  know  ;  and  even  if  she  did  she 
would  never  betray  what  was  not  her  secret.  When 
Albert  repeated  this  to  Eeinrich,  the  latter  exclaimed, 
with  a  laugh:  "A  rare  instance  of  discretion;  really 
Rdschen  might  be  a  worthy  companion  of  John  of  Nepo- 
muk.  Were  you  equally  prudent,  Albert?  Did  you  con- 
fide as  little  of  my  affairs?" 

Albert  reddened  with  embarrassment.  "  Herr  Count, 
I  only  spoke  of  things  which  I  supposed  were  no  secrets: 
your  kindness  to  me,  your  friendship  for  the  Prison 
Fairy " 

"  But,  for  Heaven's  sake  !"  interrupted  Heinrich,  vehe- 
mently, "  how  could  you  tell  her  that,  of  all  people  ? — 
her!"  Albert  looked  at  him  in  alarm.  "If  she  should 
tell  the  pr Oh,  Albert,  it  was  very  imprudent !" 

Heinrich  now  watched  Ottilie  closely  at  all  the  enter- 
tainments given  by  the  court,  but  observed  nothing  except 
her  immovable  calmness  and  apparent  coldness;  this, 
however,  might  be  the  result  of  her  royal  pride.  But 
when,  after  the  betrothal  ceremony,  he  requested  a  private 
audience  and  was  refused,  he  bit  his  lips  and  muttered, 
"  Albert's  prating  has  already  produced  its  effect ;  she  is 
aware  of  my  relations  with  Cornelia!" 

Yet  he  bad  again  misjudged  Ottilie.  At  the  official 
farewell  audience,  in  the  presence  of  the  ladies  of  the 
court,  although  very  dignified  and  evidently  exhausted, 
she  was  so  gracious,  and  the  prescribed  forms  of  etiquette 
were  pervaded  with  such  an  atmosphere  of  true  feeling, 
that  Heinrich  could  not  doubt  that  he  still  retained  her 
favor.  When  she  dismissed  him  she  whispered,  "Take 
all  my  future  subjects  my  kind  wishes  and  blessing." 
The  words  were  simple,  but  they  were  accompanied  by  a 
significant,  tearful  glance  which  told  Heinrich  all. 

He  again  assumed  the  air  of  struggling  to  repress 
emotion,  which  he  could  so  skillfully  adopt.  "  Will  your 
Highness  deign  to  accept  my  heartfelt  gratitude  for  the 
message,  and  the  assurance  that  the  blessing  cannot  be 
fully  received  until  your  Highness  appears  in  the  home 
of  your  subjects  in  person." 

Thus  the  audience  ended,  and  Ottmar  was  obliged  to 


176  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

confess  that  Ottilie  was  a  mystery  to  him.  This  was 
because  the  comprehension  of  true  womanhood  was  still 
denied  him.  The  power  of  virtue,  the  strength  of  self- 
sacrifice,  which  woman,  in  spite  of  her  many  weaknesses, 
possesses,  were  unknown  to  him  ;  fate  still  reserved  this 
great  lesson.  He  was  to  buy  it  dearly  enough. 


XIV. 

CHURCHYARD  BLOSSOMS. 

Heinrich  departed  to  take  his  master  the  betrothal 
documents,  and  Albert  cheerfully  remained  behind  :i.s 
steward  of  the  estates  of  Ottmarsfeld.  He  did  not  make 
himself  unhappy  about  Roschen's  refusal.  He  had  wished 
to  keep  his  word,  and  asked  her  to  be  his  wife,  but  he  could 
not  help  secretly  acknowledging  that,  after  all  that  had 
passed,  he  now  loved  her  only  with  a  brother's  affection. 
Both  were  in  the  same  situation,  for  both  had  forme.! 
ideals  of  beauty  and  perfection.  They  dared  not  even 
raise  their  eyes  longingly  towards  them,  but  they  could 
not  bear  their  mutual  comparisons  with  them,  and  in 
their  insignificance  no  longer  satisfied  each  other.  These 
glittering  images  must  be  obliterated  by  time  before  the 
old  calm  affection  could  revive  in  their  hearts. 

When  Ottmar  once  more  saw  the  steeples  of  the  city 
where  Cornelia  lived,  his  long-repressed  desire  to  see  her 
seized  upon  him  with  such  power  that  he  thought  his 
impatience  must  hasten  the  locomotive.  After  all  these 
days  and  weeks  of  constraint,  and  of  deprivation  of  all 
pleasure,  he  was  at  last  to  taste  once  more  rich,  infinite  joy. 
Henri  longed  to  clasp  the  beautiful,  love-breathing  woman 
in  his  arms,  and  in  one  burning  kiss  relieve  his  oppressed 
heart  of  its  secret.  Heinrich  wished  for  the  fresh,  full 
tide  of  her  intellect,  and  with  astonishment  felt  a  world 
of  new  ideas  spring  to  life  at  the  thought  of  her.  When 
the  train  arrived  he  hurried  home,  changed  his  dress,  and 


CHURCHYARD   BLOSSOMS.  Iff 

went  to  the  palace  to  deliver  the  papers  he  had  brought. 
While  the  prince  was  reading  the  documents,  the  ground 
seemed  fairly  to  burn  under  his  feet;  but  his  alarm  was 
indescribable  when  the  latter  informed  him  that  he  had  a 
second  mission  for  him.  Heinrich  must  set  out  immedi- 
ately as  envoy  extraordinary  to  the  court  of  R , 

ostensibly  to  announce  the  betrothal,  but  at  the  same 

time  to  secretly  ascertain  how  the  government  of  R 

was  disposed  towards  the  commercial  treaty  which  had 
long  been  a  favorite  project  with  the  prince. 

The  journey  to  R would  occupy  several  days,  for 

at  that  time  railways  had  not  yet  penetrated  the  country  ; 
so  that  Heinrich  foresaw  he  must  spend  weeks  in  settling 
the  business,  and  be  deprived  of  Cornelia's  society  still 
longer.  But  he  was  obliged  to  submit  and  thank  the 
prince  for  this  new  proof  of  his  confidence. 

When  the  audience  was  over  he  hurried  to  Cornelia, 
but  she  and  Veronica  had  gone  to  spend  a  few  days  with 
a  friend  at  her  country  seat,  and  thus  the  hopes  he  had 
fixed  upon  this  interview  were  blasted.  In  the  worst 
possible  humor,  he  set  out  upon  his  journey  that  very 
evening.  On  arriving  in  R ,  he  was  loaded  with  hon- 
ors. As  usual,  the  most  distinguished  ladies  coquetted 
with  him,  and  displayed  all  the  magnificence  and  all  the 
charms  which  the  luxury  of  a  great  and  brilliant  court  can 
bestow  upon  women.  Now  and  then  a  dazzling  beauty 
or  a  bold,  exuberant  intellect  surprised,  but  nothing  cap- 
tivated, him;  he  had  long  been  familiar  with  the  blending 
of  social  qualities  in  all  their  shades  and  variations,  and 
every  comparison  only  served  to  increase  his  longing  for 
Cornelia.  At  last  his  mission  was  performed.  In  return 
for  the  announcement  of  the  betrothal  he  received  a  dia- 
mond cross,  and  his  secret  diplomatic  commission  was 
rewarded  with  the  best  possible  success.  He  induced  the 

government  of  R to  favor  the  ideas  of  the  prince, 

arranged  the  preliminaries  of  the  commercial  treaty  as 
far  as  his  office  permitted,  and  set  out  on  his  return,  fol- 
lowed by  many  angry  and  many  tearful  glances,  for  the 

ladies  of  R would  not  believe  that  a  man  of  so  much 

intellect  and  personal  beauty  could  reserve  his  advantages 
for  a  "simple  German." 
H 


178  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

After  a  long  and  toilsome  journey  he  reached  X . 

Once  more  his. first  visit  was  to  the  prince,  and  he  now 
received  instructions  to  go  to  H to  arrange  the  mar- 
riage ceremonies.  But  this  time  he  was  more  fortunate, 
when,  after  the  audience,  he  hurried  to  Cornelia.  The 
old  servant  with  the  sulky  face  opened  the  door,  and 
without  waiting  to  be  announced  Ottmar  entered  the 
salon.  It  was  very  silent  and  lonely ;  the  setting  sun 
shone  upon  the  yellow  damask  furniture,  and  the  roses 
in  the  flower-stands  exhaled  their  fragrance  as  usual. 
Henri's  heart  beat  almost  audibly ;  he  gasped  for  breath, 
for  the  opposite  door  opened, — and  Veronica  in  her  light 
robes  floated  into  the  room.  Henri  stood  before  her 
completely  disenchanted  ;  he  had  so  confidently  expected 
to  have  a  moment  alone  with  Cornelia  that  it  cost  him 
an  effort  to  maintain  his  usual  winning  courtesy. 

"  My  dear  count!"  cried  Veronica,  holding  out  her  thin 
hand  in  its  white  net  glove.  "I  am  glad  you  still  re- 
member us.  You  have  been  traveling  about  the  world 
so  much  without  giving  us  any  news  of  you  that  we 
supposed  ourselves  entirely  forgotten." 

"  I  do  not  deserve  this  reproach,  my  dear  Fraulein," 
said  Heinrich,  apologetically,  for  in  Veronica's  presence 
ho  was  again  Heinrich.  "I  could  not  suspect  that  I 
might  venture  to  give  you  written  news  of  me;  how  and 
upon  what  pretext  could  I  have  done  so  ?" 

"My  dear  count,"  said  Veronica,  with  her  simple 
frankness,  "that  is  not  truthfully  and  sincerely  spoken; 
for  our  great  interest  in  you  could  not  have  escaped  your 
notice.  You  would  have  needed  no  other  pretext  for 
sending  a  letter  than  the  consciousness  that  by  doing  so 
you  would  give  us  pleasure.  Yet  Heaven  forbid  that  this 
should  seem  like  a  reproach;  we  have  not  the  smallest 
right  to  make  one.  We  must  even  be  grateful  that  when 
here  you  bestow  many  an  hour  upon  us.  I,  at  least, 
make  no  claim  to  occupy  a  place  in  your  memory." 

"  You  do  not  ?  But,  Fraulein,  Cornelia  ?"  asked  Hein- 
rich, watchfully. 

"Nor  does  Cornelia;  yet  she  took  your  silence  less 
calmly  than  I.  In  such  matters  youth  is  more  unreason- 
able than  age." 


CHURCHYARD  BLOSSOMS.  179 

Heinrich  no  longer  controlled  himself.  "  Tell  me, 
where  is  she  ?" 

"  Who?  Cornelia  ?     She  has  gone  out." 

"  Gone  out !"  exclaimed  Heinrich.  "  Gone  out,  and  I 
set  out  again  at  ten  o'clock  to-night  to  remain  absent  for 
weeks !  For  months  I  have  longed  for  her  society,  and 
now  shall  not  see  her !  I  hear  she  is  angry  with  me,  and 
shall  not  be  able  to  defend  myself!  I  have  caused  her 
pain,  and  cannot  make  amends  1  Oh,  tell  me  where  she 
is,  the  sweet,  lovely  creature  I'' 

"Alas,  my  dear  count,  I  cannot,"  replied  Veronica, 
while  a  shadow  stole  over  her  face. 

"  Why  not  ?    Do  you  not  know  ?" 
""  I  know,  but " 

"  Then  tell  me,  my  dear,  kind,  motherly  friend.  You 
are  weeping:  what  is  the  matter  with  Cornelia f  I  must 
know  I" 

"  You  are  completely  beside  yourself,"  exclaimed  Ve- 
ronica.  "  Well,  I  cannot  help  it;  I  must  tell  you.  She 
is  in  the  churchyard." 

"In  the  churchyard?"  asked  Heinrich,  in  amazement. 

"  Cornelia  goes  there  every  day  and  mourns  over  the 
grave  of  a  friend.  Go,  my  dear  count,  go  to  her ;  I  see 
you  feel  more  affection  for  her  than  we  supposed.  Ah, 
I  hope  your  presence  may  exert  a  favorable  influence 
upon  the  poor  child." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  her  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

"  She  was  once  betrothed " 

"  I  know  it,"  he  interrupted. 

"  But  her  lover  died  under  very  painful  circumstances." 

"  That  I  know  also." 

"  She  seemed  to  have  long  since  ceased  to  grieve  over 
the  unfortunate  affair;  but  some  time  ago  the  old  affec- 
tion and  sorrow  broke  forth  afresh.  She  has  become  silent 
and  sad;  goes  to  his  grave  every  day,  and  at  night  it 
often  seems  to  me  as  if  she  were  weeping  gently." 

Heinrich  heard  all  this  with  strange  emotion. 

"You  have  an  influence  over  Cornelia,"  continued 
Yeronica,  amid  her  tears  ;  "  if  you  could  cheer  my  child, 
remove  the  black  shadow  from  our  once  sunny  life,  under 
what  infinite  obligations  you  would  place  me  !" 


180  ^    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  I  will !"  cried  Heinrich,  pressing  Veronica's  hand  to 
his  lips.  "  Is  she  in  St.  Stephen's  churchyard,  where  the 
revolutionists  are  buried  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Veronica. 

"  Farewell  till  we  meet  again."  And  he  hurried  out  of 
the  house. 

For  the  first  time  in  many  years  Heinrich  entered  a 
churchyard  alone ;  he  had  formerly  only  visited  them  as 
a  part  of  the  throng  which  attended  some  aristocratic 
funeral ;  and  in  spite  of  the  haste  with  which  he  moved 
along  the  paths,  the  holiness  of  the  spot,  the  silence  of 
the  dead,  unconsciously  allayed  the  excitement  of  his 
soul,  and  made  his  mood  grave  and  gdntle.  With  down- 
cast eyes  he  wandered  through  the  long  rows  of  graves 
adorned  with  headstones  and  flowers  ;  he  was  well  aware 
that  it  was  useless  to  seek  Cornelia  here,  and  hastened 
on  by  the  churchyard  wall  to  where  the  lonely,  simple 
crosses  of  the  criminals  rose  above  the  mounds.  In  one 
corner  he  at  last  perceived  among  the  neglected  graves  a 
group  of  trees  and  bushes,  surrounded  by  a  hedge  of  wild 
roses.  The  cool  breath  of  the  spring  evening  rustled 
through  the  leaves,  and  amid  the  branches  the  nightin- 
gales softly  trilled  their  songs.  Heinrich  paused  and 
gazed  through  the  shrubbery.  Upon  a  hillock,  overgrown 
with  lilies  of  the  valley  and  ivy,  sat  Cornelia;  her  head 
rested  on  her  hand,  and  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  slowly, 
as  if  burdened  with  the  weight  of  sorrowful  thought. 

Just  at  that  moment  Heinrich  emerged  from  the  shrub- 
bery. She  sprang  up  with  a  startled  cry  and  gazed  at 
him  as  if  in  a  dream ;  then  a  deep  flush  overspread  her 
face,  her  limbs  refused  to  support  her,  and,  without  a 
word,  she  sank  fainting  upon  the  mound. 

"  Cornelia  !"  exclaimed  Heinrich,  and  there  was  the 
promise  of  inexpressible  happiness  in  the  tone,  as  he 
threw  himself  at  her  feet  and  laid  his  clasped  hands  in 
her  lap.  They  gazed  at  each  other  long  and  silently. 
"At  last!  ah,  at  last!"  he  murmured,  in  delight. 

"At  last!"  repeated  Cornelia,  with  a  heavy  sigh;  then 
she  gently  clasped  his  hands  in  hers,  held  them  more  and 
more  firmly,  and  asked,  with  an  expression  of  unspeak- 
able delight,  "  Ottmar,  is  it  you  ?"  Tears  dimmed  her 


CHURCHYARD   BLOSSOMS.  181 

eyes,  her  voice  trembled,  aud  she  averted  her  face  to  con- 
ceal her  emotion. 

"  Cornelia,  my  life,  my  soul !"  exclaimed  Henri,  who, 
after  a  violent  struggle,  supplanted  Heinrich.  "  Grieve 
no  more ;  love  has  arisen.  You  wished  to  conjure  up  the 
shade  of  the  dead  man  to  be  an  ally  against  my  image 
in  your  heart,  and  instead  he  sends  me  to  you.  Your 
place  is  not  by  this  grave,  but  here,  here,  on  my  warm 
breast  1  here  throbs  the  heart  in  which  your  life  is  rooted; 
here  breathes  the  love  you  vainly  sought  under  moss  and 
stones.  Rise,  come  away ;  do  not  press  your  beautiful 
face  upon  the  damp  grass.  He  who  sleeps  belq^v  does 
not  feel;  but  I  do,  and  long  for  you  so  ardently,  so  inex- 
pressibly !  You  do  not  answer ;  what  is  the  cause  of 
your  struggle?  Do  you  find  it  so  difficult  to  choose  be- 
tween this  tomb  and  me  ?  Come,  come,  be  truthful.  I 
know  you  love  me ;  say  so,  say  so,  Cornelia  !" 

She  rose  and  bent  towards  him  ;  he  clasped  her  in  his 
arms,  and  the  two  noble  figures  clung  to  each  other  in  an 
ardent,  silent  embrace.  At  that  moment  it  seemed  to 
Ottmar  as  if  his  two  natures  also  embraced,  as  if  their 
opposing  qualities  were  blended  by  the  enthusiasm  that 
pervaded  both  his  intellectual  and  sensuous  existence, 
and  all  the  powers  of  the  harmonious  man  expanded  to 
exhaust  the  intellect  and  physical  delight  of  the  moment. 
He  closed  his  eyes  and  clasped  Cornelia  more  and  more 
closely  to  his  heart;  he  thought  and  felt  nothing  except, 
"  She  is  mine!"  And  blissful  peace  descended  upon  him. 
Just  then  a  funeral-bell  tolled,  and  roused  the  lovers  to  a 
consciousness  of  what  place  they  had  selected  for  the 
cradle  of  their  happiness. 

"  Come  away  from  this  ghostly  spot,  Cornelia." 
"  Oh,  stay!  the  scene  is  a  dear  and  familiar  one  to  me." 
"  Strange  child,  who  must  be  sought  in  dungeons  or 
graveyards!   How  does  it  happen  that  you  always  choose 
so  gloomy  a  background  for  the  radiant  picture  of  your 
life?     Does  a  churchyard  suit  our  mood?  have   not  the 
flowers  which  garland  our  first  embrace  sprung  from  cor- 
ruption ?    Why  think  of  death  when  we  are  just  crossing 
the  threshold  of  a  new  life  ?" 

"  Why  not  ?     Death  has  no  terrors  for  me.     Is  it  not 
16 


182  ^    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

pleasant  to  see  how  life  rises  anew  from  corruption  ? 
Look  !  the  bodily  form  of  a  friend  is  springing  up  around 
me  in  spring  flowers ;  his  nature  was  as  pure,  delicate, 
and  fragrant  as  a  lily  of  the  valley,  and  perhaps  in  these 
evening  breezes  his  gentle  spirit  hovers  around  me  in 
benediction.  Why  should  I  not  rejoice  here,  where  I 
have  so  long  mourned  you  ?  How  often  the  rustling  of 
this  shrubbery  has  deceived  me  when  I  thought  I  had 
summoned  you  hither  by  my  ardent  longing  !  how  often 
these  birds  have  sung  of  hope  and  consolation  when  I 
believed  myself  lonely  and  forgotten,  and  came  here  to 
atone  ty  the  dead  man  for  having  forsaken  him  for  the 
sake  of  one  who  loved  me  not!  I  have  never  left  here 
without  being  aided,  and  am  I  now  to  carelessly  turn 
away  from  the  spot  because  I  no  longer  need  its  modest 
consolation  ?  Should  I  avoid  the  grave  of  my  young 
friend, — the  grave  which,  in  the  perfume  of  these  flowers, 
has  so  often  poured  forth  blissful  promises  of  love  ?" 

"  Cornelia,  how  happy  you  are  even  when  grave,  and 
how  profoundly  earnest!  I  have  never  known  a  nature 
upon  which  all  the  delicate  and  noble  instincts  of  the  soul 
were  so  clearly  impressed.  Come,  let  me  clasp  you  to  my 
heart  again,  that  I  may  convince  myself  you  are  really 
flesh  and  blood,  and  no  glorified  spirit,  which  may  some 
day  soar  upward  from  whence  it  came." 

"  Even  if  I  were  a  spirit,  I  would  not  fly  from  you," 
said  Cornelia,  gazing  up  at  him  with  a  face  radiant  with 
joy.  "  I  would  gladly  submit  to  all  the  sorrows  of  this 
earthly  life,  in  order  to  be  able  to  taste  its  joys  in  your 
heart,  you  noble  man." 

"  Girl !"  cried  Henri,  his  eyes  blazing  with  a  sudden 
light,  "  what  a  world  of  love  your  tender  breast  conceals  ! 
Yes,  you  will  know  how  to  love  as  I  desire, — warmly, 
nobly,  overpoweringly.  Come,  kiss  me  once  more;  it  is 
so  lonely  here:  no  one  is  watching  us.  You  cannot  kiss 
yet,  Cornelia.  When  I  return  I  will  teach  you." 

"  When  you  return  ?     Are  you  going  away  again  ?" 

"  This  very  day  ;  but  it  is  for  the  last  time,  then  I  will 
stay  with  you." 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  To  attend  the  marriage  ceremonies  between  Princess 


CHURCHYARD  BLOSSOMS.  183 

Ottilie  and  our  prince.     Only  a  few  weeks  more,  and  I 
shall  be  wholly  yours." 

"But  you  will  write  to  me  now  ?" 

"  Every  day.  My  sweet  one,  did  my  long  silence 
grieve  you  ?" 

"Oh,  deeply  1"  sighed  Cornelia,  and  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  "How  I  have  wept  for  you  1" 

"  Poor  angel !  If  I  had  known  how  you  love  me,  I 
would  never  have  tortured  you  so;  but  I  will  make 
amends  for  it.  Do  you  believe  I  can  ?" 

"A  thousandfold !"  laughed  Cornelia,  amid  her  tears. 

"And  now  come,  Cornelia;  I  will  accompany  you 
home,  for  I  must  prepare  for  my  journey." 

"No,  Heinrich;  I  cannot  appear  before  others  with  you 
now.  Go  alone,  and  leave  me  here  a  half-hour  longer, 
until  I  have  collected  my  thoughts ;  such  sweet  sounds 
must  echo  through  the  stillness." 

"  You  are  right.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  stay  with  you  ! 
Farewell.  Do  not  look  at  me  with  that  earnest  gaze,  or 
I  cannot  turn  away.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  a  banished  man, 
let  me  press  you  to  my  heart  once  more.  Now  send  me 
away,  or  I  cannot  leave  you  1" 

There  was  a  rustling  in  the  branches.  "Hark!  What 
was  that  ?  Has  any  one  been  watching  us  ?" 

"  It  was  the  evening  breeze  that  warns  you  to  go  if 
you  must  set  out  on  your  journey  to-day.  Go,  my  be- 
loved ;  think  of  our  meeting,  not  of  our  farewell.  1  will 
shut  my  eyes,  that  they  may  not  detain  you." 

"  Then,  farewell,  until  I  have  discharged  my  duty  to 
the  prince.  Do  not  fly  away  to  heaven,  my  angel !" 

When  Cornelia  again  raised  her  eyes,  'Henri  had  de- 
parted. She  watched  him  striding  rapidly  along,  then 
clasped  her  hands  upon  her  breast,  as  if  to  conceal  the 
overwhelming  burden  of  her  happiness.  A  deep  stillness 
surrounded  her;  the  sun  had  set,  the  birds  were  silent. 
Suddenly  a  dark  figure  appeared  as  if  it  had  started  from 
the  earth,  a  tall,  handsome  man  with  a  broad  scar  upon 
his  brow,  clad  in  the  long  coat  of  a  priest.  He  fixed  his 
dark  eyes  upon  Cornelia  for  a  moment,  and  then  walked 
silently  on. 

"  Who  was  that  ?"  she  murmured,  in  terror.     "  Why 


184  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

did  he  look  at  me  so  strangely  ?  What  had  the  gloomy 
apparition  to  do  with  this  bright  hour?"  She  now  felt 
the  chill  of  the  night  air  for  the  first  time,  shivered,  and 
overwhelmed  hy  a  haunting  dread,  hurried  swiftly  be- 
tween the  graves  towards  home. 


XV. 

A   ROYAL    MARRIAGE. 

"H ,  May  15th. 

"  You  ask  me,  my  Cornelia,  whether  our  love  is  to  re- 
main a  secret.  Yes,  I  entreat  you  to  keep  it  so.  Let 
no  one,  no  matter  who  it  may  be,  touch  the  tender  plant 
which  is  budding  in  our  hearts.  So  young  an  affection 
needs  concealment  until  it  is  strong  enough  to  withstand 
all  storms;  and  believe  me,  my  angel,  they  will  not  be 
spared  you.  I  ain  far  too  well  known,  have  too  often 
had  occasion  to  thrust  others  aside,  not  to  have  obtained 
the  ill-will  of  persons  who  will  take  pleasure  in  casting 
poison  into  your  heart  merely  out  of  malice  towards  me. 
That  I  have  given  them  sufficient  cause,  I  will  frankly 
confess ;  for  until  a  character  like  mine  is  complete  with- 
in itself,  it  must  fall  into  a  thousand  errors,  contra- 
dictions, and  inconsistencies.  No  man  of  real  ability 
escapes  this  crisis  of  development.  The  more  variously 
and  richly  he  is  endowed  by  nature,  the  more  severe  a 
process  of  purification  he  must  endure ;  and  this  cannot 
be  accomplished  without  expelling,  by  a  violent  ferment- 
ation, the  dross  which  indelibly  sullies  his  outward  life, 
if,  like  me,  he  has  been  exposed  to  the  eyes  of  the  public. 
The  private  citizen  experiences  such  epochs  in  silence ; 
he  is  not  watched,  and  therefore  his  errors  are  not  ob- 
served; the  false  step  taken  in  a  position  as  lofty  as  mine 
is  visible  to  the  whole  world,  it  is  imprinted  not  only 
upon  the  personal  chronique  scandaleuse  but  upon  the 
history  of  the  times,  and  receives  an  official  character. 
Therefore  beware,  Cornelia,  of  wishing  to  become  ac- 


A    ROYAL  MARRIAGE.  185 

quainted  with  my  nature  through  any  other  person  than 
myself;  beware  of  exposing  the  chaste  secret  of  your 
heart  to  curiosity,  malice,  perhaps  even  envy.  Do  not 
think  that  foolish  vanity  makes  me  use  this  word,  for  in 
the  present  inordinate  thirst  for  marriage  it  is  only  natu- 
ral that  envy  should  be  excited  in  all  circles,  when  a 
young  girl  is  loved  by  so  prominent  a  man.  Keep  aloof 
from  all  these  profaning  influences.  Believe  me,  I  know- 
woman's  nature,  with  its  thousand  delicate  threads  of 
feeling  and  consequent  excitability  and  sensitiveness,  and 
I  warn  you  to  conceal  my  image  in  your  inmost  soul. 
We  do  not  at  first  perceive  the  injury  such  a  tie  sustains 
by  a  rude  touch  ;  but  as  a  fruit  beaten  by  the  hail  con- 
tinues to  grow  and  shows  the  blemish  and  bitterness  only 
when  eaten,  so  the  sore  spot  in  our  hearts  disturbs  our 
happiness,  and  at  last  develops  a  bitterness  all  our  love 
cannot  soften.  I  make  the  greatest  sacrifice  because  I 
can  only  see  you  clandestinely ;  but  the  time  will  come 
when  our  love  will  dare  to  show  itself  openly  before  the 
world,  when  we  can  no  longer  lose  each  other,  and  then 
you  will  perceive  that  I  was  right  and  thank  me  for  my 
present  self-sacrifice. 

"  Say  nothing,  even  to  Veronica;  age  is  garrulous;  I 
sincerely  respect  her,  but  I  cannot  acquit  her  of  this 
peculiarity  of  her  years  ;  you  have  already  made  her  so 
accustomed  to  your  independent  habits,  you  dear  little 
piece  of  obstinacy,  that  she  will  not  think  it  strange  if  you 
keep  this  letter  from  her  as  well  as  the  others.  It  will 
be  the»last  I  shall  write  from  here,  for  Prince  Edward, 
who  is  to  marry  Ottilie  as  a  proxy,  arrived  day  before 
yesterday;  the  ceremony  will  be  performed  day  after  to- 
morrow, and  then  we  shall  set  out  at  once.  As  the 
princess's  health  is  somewhat  delicate,  and  a  journey  by 
rail  exhausts  her  more  than  to  travel  by  ship,  I  shall 

bring  her  from  B by  water.     We  shall  arrive  on  the 

21st.  Be  sure  to  be  at  the  harbor;  the  papers  will  give 
you  all  the  particulars.  Then,  Cornelia,  I  will  lay  my 
weary  head  upon  your  breast,  and  rest  peacefully  after 
the  thousand  miserable  anxieties  of  diplomacy  and  eti- 
quette, which  torture  a  poor  ambassador  extraordinary. 
Yes,  you  may  be  right  when  you  say  I  was  born  for 

16* 


186  ^    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

\ 

something  higher  than  to  be  the  servant  of  a  prince. 
When  I  read  such  words,  something  stirs  within  me  like 
an  awakening  power,  which  only  needs  the  impulse  to 
cast  off  its  chains,  to  shake  itself  free  by  one  mighty 
effort.  Whether  and  from  whence  this  will  come  to  me, 
from  without  or  from  within,  I  know  not;  but  this  I  do 
know,  that  only  you  can  rouse  the  ideal  powers  which  a 
misdirected  life  has  lulled  to  sleep. 
"  Farewell  till  we  meet,  my  angel. 

"Your  own  Heinrich." 

It  was  late  at  night  when  Heinrich  finished  this  letter, 
and  while  he  went  calmly  to  rest  and  fell  asleep  with 
Cornelia's  name  upon  his  lips,  the  princess  was  wander- 
ing up  and  down  her  chamber  like  a  restless  ghost.  The 
lamps  were  burning  brightly  in  their  ground-glass  shades 
beside  her  bed,  whose  silken  curtains  waved  slowly  to 
and  fro  as  Ottilie  passed  them. 

"  It  is  impossible  ;  I  cannot  do  it,"  she  said,  as  she 
leaned  for  a  moment  against  the  window.  "  If  it  were 
only  day!  The  night  makes  all  anxieties  rise  before  us 
like  impassable  mountains  !  Or,  if  sleep  would  over- 
power me !  But  now  it  has  been  wholly  put  to  flight  by 
the  thought  that  I  have  but  one  more  day  of  freedom, — 
freedom  to  love  and  suffer;  and  then — then  I  must  tear 
my  heart  from  all  to  which  it  clings  so  fondly, — forget, 
cease  to  feel :  and  woe  betide  me  if  I  do  not  wholly  suc- 
ceed in  doing  so  !  To  see  him  daily,  to  be  obliged  to  dis- 
tinguish him  from  among  the  nobles  of  my  country  as 
my  husband's  favorite,  and  yet  force  back  what  my  own 
heart  feels ;  to  feign  an  indifference  which  makes  the 
forms  of  courtesy — the  true  expression  of  my  opinions — 
a  lie!  And  you  could  undertake  such  a  task,  unhappy 
one  ?  You  could  allow  yourself  to  be  so  confused  and 
persuaded  that  you  did  not  shrink  from  the  tortures  your 
consent  would  impose  ?  If  it  were  only  suffering ! — alas  ! 
I  am  accustomed  to  that.  It  is  the  fear  of  guilt  that 
terrifies  me.  It  is  not  only  in  act  that  we  can  sin,  but  in 
thought.  Each  thought  that  steals  back  to  that  time  of 
quiet,  patient  longing  is  a  robbery  of  what  I  owe  my 
husband, — a  crime  against  my  vow.  Woe  betide  me  if 


A   ROYAL  MARRIAGE.  187 

those  ardent  dark  eyes,  which  beam  only  with  love,  even 
upon  those  for  whom  he  does  not  feel  it,  should  ever  rest 
in  all  their  power  on  mine!  Shall  I  be  able  to  prevent 
absorbing  death  from  them  with  ardent  longing?  And 
if  at  such  a  moment  my  husband  should  approach,  secure 
in  my  affection " 

She  threw  herself  on  her  knees  and  hid  her  blushing 
face  in  her  hands.  "Oh,  God!  my  God!  thou  who 
knowest  better  than  I  whether  I  am  right  in  thy  sight, 
have  mercy  upon  me  and  deliver  me  from  this  night  of 
doubt  and  anguish  !  Thou  hast  placed  me  in  this  lofty 
station  !  Give  me  the  strength,  the  coldness,  the  dignity, 
— not  only  the  outward,  but  the  inward  dignity, — which 
raises  the  reigning  princess  above  ordinary  women. 
Let  me  not  be  compelled  to  expiate  it  so  terribly,  because 
I  willfully  cherished  an  affection  for  a  man  whom  thou 
didst  not  destine'  for  me.  Have  mercy,  have  mercy,  oh, 
Father,  thou  who  hast  been  the  only  one  to  extend  thine 
arms  lovingly  in  answer  to  my  search  ! — thou  to  whom 
alone  I  could  fly  when,  like  a  lost  child,  I  despaired  in 
this  cold  world  !  I  have  brought  thee  my  tears,  com- 
plained to  thee  of  the  sorrows  other  children  weep  out 
on  their  mothers'  breasts,  and  to-day — to-day  for  the  first 
time — thou  wilt  not  permit  thyself  to  be  found." 

She  rose  and  saw  that  a  bar  of  light  was  bordering 
the  horizon.  Her  glance  fell  upon  the  mirror  and  showed 
her  a  face  so  pale,  so  tear-stained,  that  she  was  almost 
startled  at  the  sight  of  her  own  image.  She  gasped  for 
breath,  and,  utterly  exhausted,  at  last  threw  herself  upon 
her  bed  and  fell  asleep.  When  she  awoke  the  sun  was 
already  high  in  the  heavens.  The  deep  slumber  had 
strengthened  her,  and  she  rose  with  a  feeling  of  new  life. 
With  the  light  of  day  more  calmness  and  clearness  of 
judgment  had  returned.  She  collected  the  last  remnant 
of  her  strength,  and  felt  ashamed  of  her  weakness. 

"  Be  a  princess,  be  proud,  Ottilie !  Worthily  fill  the 
place  for  which  God  has  appointed  you.  Pay  the  debt 
you  owe  him  for  the  gifts  he  has  bestowed,  and  which 
you  have  held  at  so  cheap  a  rate  because  they  were 
valueless  to  one.  Perceive  that  it  is  the  call  of  God  that 
rouses  you  from  this  selfish  melancholy.  Obey  it,  fulfill 


188  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

your  destiny  like  all  other  created  beings ;  and  if  your 
strength  fails,  what  can  befall  you  worse  than  the  death 
for  which  you  are  always  longing?  Life  will  never  be 
so  dear  to  you  that  you  cannot  hail  it  as  a  last  blessing. 
My  Lord  and  God,  I  lay  my  broken  heart,  my  hopes,  my 
wishes  at  thy  feet,  and  make  but  one  prayer, — grant  that, 
in  return  for  all  my  sacriQces,  I  may  not  be  denied  the 
joy  of  fulfllling  my  task  and  making  others  truly  happy." 

She  stood  erect,  as  if  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  self- 
abnegation,  when  Roschen  suddenly  begged  permission  to 
enter.  "  I  most  humbly  pray  your  Highness's  pardon  for 
having  come  without  being  summoned,"  said  the  young 
girl,  "but  the  chamberlain  has  just  brought  your  High- 
ness the  news  that  Prince  Edward  was  thrown  from  his 
horse  this  morning  and  so  dangerously  injured  that  he 
cannot  appear  at  the  wedding  as  proxy." 

"  What  ?  Oh,  God  !  is  it  possible  ?"  exclaimed  Ottilie. 

"Will  your  Highness  deign  to  receive  the  chamber- 
lain's news  in  person  ?" 

"No,  no  !  But  ask  him  whether  the  marriage  will  be 
deferred,  or  if  some  one  else  will  take  the  place  of  the 
prince." 

Roschen  withdrew,  and  came  back  with  the  reply  that 
the  wedding  would,  in  all  probability,  be  deferred.  Count 

Ottmar  had  already  sent  a  telegram  to  X ,  and  they 

were  now  awaiting  an  answer. 

Ottilie  seemed  to  be  animated  with  new  life.  A  delay, 
— a  respite, — although  only  a  short  one,  enabled  her  to 
breathe  more  freely.  "  Dress  me,  Roschen,  and  then 
send  for  Countess  Carlstein.  I  will  drive  for  an  hour  ;  I 
need  the  sun  and  air.  Ah,  Roschen,"  she  continued,  as 
the  young  girl  was  arranging  her  toilet,  "  how  will  you 
feel  in  a  foreign  country  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  contented  anywhere,  if  I  am  with 
your  Highness;  especially  as  you  have  graciously  given 
my  father  a  place  in  your  train.  We  shall  still  be  able 
to  see  each  other  when  I  have  any  spare  time." 

"Good,  contented  little  one,"  smiled  Ottilie.  "Tell 
me  frankly,  Roschen,  has  your  heart  no  need  of  love? 
Do  you  not  regret  that  you  have  rejected  Albert,  and 
must  go  through  life  alone  ?"  * 


A    ROYAL    MARRIAGE.  189 

"No,  your  Highness,"  exclaimed  Roschen,  cheerily; 
and  two  charming  little  dimples  appeared  in  her  plump, 
rosy  cheeks.  "  Life  in  your  service  is  so  pleasant,  aad  I 
love  you  and  my  father  so  dearly,  that  I  haven't  the 
slightest  wish  for  the  constant  restlessness  and  feverish 
excitement  of  a  betrothal." 

Ottilie  stood  thoughtfully  before  her.  "  Tell  me,  my 
child,  how  did  you  succeed  in  forgetting  Herr  von 
Ottmar  so  easily,  since  you  love  no  one  else  ?" 

"  Oh,  your  Highness,  I  did  not  forget  him  easily,"  said 
Ro&clren,  raising  her  large,  childlike,  blue  eyes  frankly 
to  Ottilie's  face.  "  I  cried  a  great  deal  at  first,  and 
thought  I  should  die ;  but  by  degrees  I  saw  that  it  is  a 
sin  to  covet  anything  we  know  the  dear  God  does  not 
intend  for  us;  besides,  my  confessor,  Herr  Lorenz,  repre- 
sented how  hard  it  would  be  for  my  old  father  if  he  was 
compelled  to  see  his  daughter  waste  away  thus.  Then 
I  felt  ashamed  of  myself,  went  busily  to  work  again,  and 
broke  myself  of  my  useless  longing  and'  sighing.  Ah, 
work  is  good  for  everything  :  it  leaves  one  no  time  to 
weep,  and  at  night  one  is  so  tired  that  sleep  conquers  all 
grief.  So  I  soon  began  to  take  pleasure  in  living  again, 
and  thanked  God  that  he  had  punished  my  sin  so  mildly. 
Anxiety  about  poor  Albert  was  the  only  thing  that 
troubled  me,  and  now  I  am  relieved  even  from  this.  He 
is  a  happy  man." 

The  princess  felt  the  reproof  contained  in  the  young 
girl's  artlessly  prattled  philosophy.  Her  glance  fell  upon 
the  mirror,  and,  as  if  reflecting  the  reproach  in  Roschen's 
words,  it  showed  cheeks  paled  by  her  long-nourished 
sorrow,  in  the  sharpest  contrast  to  the  bright,  blooming 
face  of  the  waiting-maid. 

"Yes,  yes,  you  are  right,"  she  murmured,  at  last, 
gazing  at  Roschen's  image  in  the  mirror.  After  a  long 
pause  she  began,  in  an  almost  expressionless  tone, 
"  Have  you  learned  no  particulars  from  Albert  as  to 
whether  an  acknowledged  love  exists  between  the  count 
and  the  young  girl  called  the  Prison  Fairy?" 

"Albert  does  not  know  it  positively,  your  Highness, 
but  he  is  almost  sure  of  it;  for  ever  since  the  count  came 
back  from  N he  has  written  to  her  very  often,  and 


190  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

seems  entirely  different  from  what  he  used  to  be, — much 
more  cheerful  and  happy." 

Ottilie  compressed  her  lips,  and  involuntarily  laid  her 
hand  upon  her  heart,  as  if  she  felt  a  sudden  pang. 

"  Does  anything  hurt  you,  your  Highness?  Does  the 
pin  I  put  in  there  prick  you?"  asked  lloschen,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  take  it  out;  it  hurts  me, "said  Ottilie,  and  thought, 
"Ah,  if  you  only  could!" 

"Your  Highness,  your  heart  is  beating  violently! 
Your  Highness  is  certainly  suffering  from  that  pain  in 
the  breast  again!  If  you  would  only  tell  the -doctor 
about  it !" 

"  My  good  girl,  he  can  do  me  no  good."  A  short  cough 
interrupted  her,  and  she  glanced  smilingly  at  Roscben's 
troubled  face.  "  Be  calm,  my  child,  people  do  not  die 
of  such  things;  and  if  I  should,  I  shall  leave  you  a 
legacy  which  will  support  you  all  your  life." 

"Your  Highness!"  exclaimed  Koschen,  with  a  deep 
blush,  while  the  tears  rushed  into  her  eyes.  "  If  your 
Highness  thinks  it  is  only  for  that," — she  could  say  no 
more. 

"My  dear  Ro.scben,  have  I  hurt  your  feelings?  In- 
deed, I  did  not  intend  to  do  so.  Then  there  is  one  heart 
that  loves  me  for  myself.  God  will  reward  you  for  it 
far  better  than  I.  Do  not  cry  :  give  me  my  dress." 

Roschen  smiled  through  her  tears,  threw  the  dress 
over  Ottilie's  shoulders,  knelt  down,  and  pulled  the  folds 
straight.  Then  she  gazed  with  childish  admiration  at  her 
mistress's  tall,  stately  figure.  "  Ah,  how  beautiful  your 
Highness  looks  now!  I  cannot  imagine"  that  anyone 
can  be  handsomer  or  more  noble.  Your  Highness  is  so 
— what  shall  I  call  it? — such  a  holy  apparition." 

Ottilie  smiled  involuntarily.  "Oh,  how  delighted  your 
Highness's  proud  husband  will  be  when  he  sees  he  has 
obtained  such  a  beautiful  wife  !" 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Of  course  ;  he  must  be  pleased.  He  has  chosen  your 
Highness  without  knowing  you.  Even  if  you  were  ugly, 
he  would  still  be  compelled  to  keep  you  ;  but  if  you  are 
beautiful,  it  is  a  real  piece  of  good  fortune, — a  true  gain 
to  him.  He  will  undoubtedly  rejoice." 


A    ROYAL   MAURI  A  OH.  191 

For  the  first  time  in  many  days,  Ottilie  felt  tempted 
to  laugh.  "  You  are  a  perfect  child,"  said  she.  "  May 
God  preserve  your  innocence!  You  are  like  a  fresh 
spring  day  to  my~  soul,  and  that  is  of  great  value  to  me. 
But  do  you  know  we  have  spent  two  hours  in  curling 
hair  and  dressing?" 

"  Yes,  your  Highness ;  but  I  can't  help  it,"  replied 
Roschen,  apologetically. 

"  No,  no ;  I  know  it.  Tell  me,  Roschen,  how  would 
you  feel  if  you  were  obliged  to  meet  a  stranger  and  greet 
him  as  your  husband?"  asked  Ottilie,  with  as  much  ap- 
parent unconcern  as  possible. 

"  Oh,  dear  me !  It  must  be  strange,  I  think.  No 
doubt  it  is  very  hard  for  a  royal  lady  that  she  cannot 
hitve  her  own  free  choice  and  take  the  one  she  wants  ; 
but  she  must  bear  something  in  return  for  the  many  ad- 
vantages over  others  which  she  enjoys,  or  she  would  have 
everything  quite  too  pleasant;  and  every  human  being 
must  have  one  sorrow,  or  he  will  not  deserve  heaven." 

"Very  true;  but  what  would  you  do  if  you  were  in 
my  place  ?" 

"Why,  your  Highness,  if  matters  had  gone  so  far  that 
I  couldn't  change  anything,  then  I  wouM  in  God's  name 
reconcile  myself  to  them,  and  make  every  effort  to  be- 
come as  fond  of  my  betrothed  as  I  could,  that  I  might 
have  some  pleasure  in  him  myself,  for  it  must  be  terrible 
to  belong  to  a  man  whom  one  doesn't  love." 

"  But  if  you  cannot  love  him  ?"  asked  Ottilie,  with 
interest. 

«  "Why  should  one  not  love  the  husband  to  whom  one 
is  wedded  in  the  sight  of  God  ?  One  can  become  fond  of 
any  worthy  man,  if  one  has  a  kind  heart,  like  your  High- 
ness :  and  the  prince  is  said  to  be  both  handsome  and 
good.  It  is  better  for  any  one  who  can  choose  freely  not 
to  betroth  herself  to  a  man  whom  she  doesn't  love,  or  to 
a  stranger ;  but  if  one  must  take  him,  and  can't  get  rid 
of  it,  one  ought  to  meet  him  trustfully  and  lovingly,  that 
it  may  be  not  only  outwardly  but  inwardly  a  true  Chris- 
tian marriage." 

"  Yes,  we  must  question  the  oracle  of  a  simple  heart, 
if  in  our  over-refinement  we  wish  to  find  the  way  to  truth 


192  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

and  nature,"  murmured  Ottilie.  Her  toilet  was  now 
complete,  and  she  thought  that  she  looked  better  than 
usual.  "  If  the  Lord  so  wills,  he  can  speak  from  the  lips 
of  a  child !"  she  thought  to  herself,  for  she  had  received 
unexpected  consolation  from  the  simple  girl  who  was  so 
greatly  her  inferior. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  chamberlain  announced  the  am- 
bassador extraordinary,  Count  Ottmar,  who  requested  a 
private  audience  to  communicate  the  wishes  of  his  prince. 

Ottilie  started  at  the  sound  of  his  name,  but  moved  on 
with  a  firm  step  to  the  reception-room  where  Heinrich, 
awaited  her. 

"  Pardon  me,  princess,  for  having  ventured  to  request 
permission  to  speak  to  you  once  more  alone." 

"  My  future  husband's  messenger  must  always  be  wel- 
come to  me,"  said  Ottilie,  with  stately  courtesy. 

Heinrich  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  It  was  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  find  the  precise  tone  that  would  harmonize 
with  this  address.  He  was  unaccustomed  to  such  coldness 
from  Ottilie,  and  felt  confused.  This  did  not  escape  her 
delicate  feelings,  and  to  fill  up  the  little  pause  of  embar- 
rassment she  motioned  him  to  be  seated. 

Meantime  Heinrich  had  regained  his  composure,  and 
began,  in  a  firm,  grave  tone:  "Your  Highness,  permit 
me  to  speak  to  you  once  more  in  the  language  in  which 
I  formerly  had  the  happiness  of  making  myself  under- 
stood ;  for  the  point  in  question  does  not  merely  concern 
a  commission  from  the  prince,  but  private  relations  of  a 
delicate  nature  with  which  it  is  connected,  and  which  I 
can  only  discuss  with  your  Highness  if  you  will  permit 
me  once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  to  approach  you  as 
your  friend." 

"  Count  Ottmar,"  replied  Ottilie,  in  a  low  but  firm 
voice,  "you  may  be  assured  that  I  am  not  contemptible 
enough  to  seek  to  deny  the  existence  of  '  relations  of  a 
delicate  nature'  between  you  and  myself,  but  I  must  also 
expect  that  you  will  be  considerate  enough  to  say  no 
more  about  them  than  is  absolutely  necessary." 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  that,  princess.  I  regret  that 
my  introduction  to  this  conversation  should  have  given 
you  cause  to  fear  the  reverse." 


A   ROYAL   MARRIAGE.  193 

"  Tell  me  ray  bridegroom's  message.  What  can  he  ask 
to  which  I  would  not  consent  in  advance?" 

"  Then  I  will  discharge  my  duty.  The  reason  I  have 
used  so  much  circumlocution  you  will  perceive  without 
any  further  explanation.  You  are  aware  of  the  misfor- 
tune that  has  befallen  Prince  Edward.  I  telegraphed  at 
once  to  N ,  as  my  office  required,  and  have  just  re- 
ceived from  the  prince  the  dispatch  I  now  have  the  honor 
to  deliver  to  you." 

Ottilie  took  the  paper,  went  to  the  window,  and  read : 
"Impossible  to  defer  the  marriage.  All  the  preparations 
are  completed.  The  whole  country  in  readiness  to  giv"e 
a  brilliant  reception.  Unadvisable  to  disappoint  the  ex- 
pectations of  the  nation.  If  agreeable  to  the  princess,  I 
appoint  Count  Ottmar  proxy  on  Prince  Edward's  place. 
Count  Ottmar  will  inform  the  court  at  once,  etc."  Ottilie 
could  read  no  more  :  the  remainder  concerned  only  mat- 
ters of  etiquette ;  the  words  lost  their  meaning,  the  letters 
swam  before  her  eyes.  She  stood  motionless  as  if  struck 
by  a  thunderbolt.  Every  tinge  of  color  faded  from  her 
cheeks,  she  seemed  frozen  into  a  marble  statue.  She 
must  exchange  rings  with  Ottmar,  be  wedded  to  the  man 
for  whom  she  longed,  only  to  belong  to  another  ;  she  must 
vow  to  be  faithful  to  her  husband,  and  she  loved  his  proxy. 
The  forms  which  would  have  sealed  her  life-long  happi- 
ness, had  they  been  true,  now  only  served  to  sanction 
the  lie  at  the  thought  of  which  her  heart  bled.  And  yet 
ought  she,  as  the  betrothed  bride  of  another,  to  make  the 
humiliating  confession  to  Heinrich  that  she  felt  too  weak 
to  bear  his  presence  at  the  altar  ? — ought  she  to  give  way 
to  such  weakness  herself?  » 

Heinrich  read  these  thoughts  reflected  upon  her  brow. 
"I  knew  this  news  must  affect  you  unpleasantly,  prin- 
cess, and  therefore  preferred  to  give  you  the  information 
privately,  that  you  might  be  able  to  tell  me  frankly  whether 
it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  to  stand  before  the  altar  with 
me  or  not.  I  hope  you  will  understand  my  '  considera- 
tion' now;  for  if  the  inquiry  had  been  made  officially, 
you  would  not  have  been  able  to  offer  before  the  eyes  of 
the  world  the  insult  of  refusing  to  accept  me  as  a  substi- 
tute. But  here,  alone,  you  can  tell  me  if  it  will  be  pain- 
i  17 


194  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

ful  to  you  to  have  me  beside  you;  and  I  will  not  take  the 
acknowledgment  as  a  humiliation,  but  receive  it  as  a 
sacred  confidence,  and  find  means  to  delay  the  progress 
of  affairs  without  mentioning  your  name." 

Ottilie  struggled  with  her  feelings  for  a  moment,  and 
then  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  "  I  thank  you,  my  friend. 
Your  forbearance  is  kind  and  noble,  but  it  is  unnecessary. 
How  could  I  meet  the  prince,  my  husband,  if  I  had  not 
done  with — everything  ? — if  I  shrank  from  this  last  drop 
in  the  bitter  cup  ?  What  has  been  begun  must  be  finished, 
If  I  have  the  courage  to  accomplish  the  great  falsehood 
of  my  life,  it  ought  not  to  fail  me  in  this  short,  painful 
comedy.  Ought  I  to  rob  an  expectant  country  of  its 
festival  of  joy,  leave  its  garlands  to  wither,  suffer  its 
good-will  to  be  transformed  into  anger,  on  account  of  the 
cowardice  of  a  sore  heart  ?  Ought  I  not,  as  the  mother 
of  the  country,  to  understand  my  duties  better  ?  No,  no, 
Ottmar;  I  am  stronger  than  you  thought.  I  will  go 
with  you  to  the  marriage  ceremony;  I  will  think  only  of 
my  people,  pray  for  them  alone, — my  kind  people,  who 
are  hopefully  expecting  me:  that  will  give  me  strength 
to  bear  the  mockery  of  fate  which  places  my  hand  in 
yours, — to  part  me  from  you  forever."  Here  emotion 
suffocated  her  voice :  she  motioned  to  Ottmar  to  with- 
draw, and  turned  away. 

"Oh,  princess,"  be  cried,  "if  you  knew  what  grief  I 
feel  at  the  sight  of  your'  silent  suffering,  at  the  thought 
that  I  am  its  author,  and  can  now  do  nothing,  nothing  to 
lessen  it  I  I  am  an  unhappy  man,  who  always  acts  solely 
from  egotism,  and  yet  is  not  bad  enough  to  be  able  to 
witness  the  result  of  his  deeds  coldly  and  without  re- 
morse. No,  God  is  my  witness  that  I  am  now  speaking 
the  truth,  and  not  acting  a  part  !"  He  threw  himself  on 
his  knees  before  her.  "  Forgive  me,  princess ;  I  have  com- 
mitted a  terrible  crime  against  you  !" 

She  laid  her  hand  gently  on  his  h£ad.  "  I  forgive  you  all, 
Ottmar.  May  God  bless  and  guide  you  in  the  right  path !" 

"  I  thank  you  !"  cried  Heinrich,  springing  up.  "  Then 
I  am  to  give  the  court  notice  that  the  marriage  will 
take  place?" 

"  I  have  already  said  so." 


A   ROYAL   MARRIAGE.  195 

When  Heinrich  had  closed  the  door  behind  him,  Ot- 
tilie  gave  free  course  to  her  tears.  "  Oh,  God  !  oh,  God  ! 
how  much  can  a  heart  bear  without  breaking?" 

She  had  told  the  truth :  hers  was  not  one  of  those  na- 
tures in  which  grief,  by  a  violent  assault,  swells  the  veins 
to  bursting,  strains  the  nerves  to  their  utmost  tension, 
and  excites  a  wild  conflict  in  the  heart ;  she  belonged  to 
those  deep,  silent  characters,  which  do  not  have  the 
strength  to  offer  the  resistance  which  increases  it  to  de- 
spair, or  conquers  it,  but  patiently  suffer  it  to  obtain 
complete  possession  of  them,  and  conceal  it  in  the  deep- 
est recesses  of  their  souls,  where  it  gently  and  gradually 
gnaws  away  the  roots  of  life.  This  proceeds  from  no 
lack  of  strength  or  courage.  They  use  all  their  moral 
power. in  the  conscientiousness  and  capacity  for  self- 
sacrifice  peculiar  to  them,  in  order  to  accomplish  the  tasks 
of  superhuman  difficulty  which  fate  most  frequently  im- 
poses upon  these  very  natures. 

Ottilie  performed  .such  a  task  when  on  the  following 
day  she  went  to  the  altar  with  Heinrich,  and  succeeded 
in  stifling  the  thought  of  his  close  proximity  by  fervent 
prayer.  She  did  not  cast  a  single  glance  at  his  face,  but 
stood  as  pale  and  calm  as  a  corpse  adorned  for  the  grave. 
All  were  weeping  around  her,  although  they  could  have 
given  no  reason  for  it,  even  to  themselves.  Her  manner 
after  the  wedding  exerted  a  sorrowful  influence  :  it  seemed 
to  each  person  who  offered  her  his  congratulations  as  if 
he  were  uttering  a  lie,  and  a  thrill  of  melancholy  ran 
through  his  whole  frame  as  she  bowed  her  beautiful  head 
in  acknowledgment.  With  the  firmness  to  which  all 
royal  personages  are  trained,  she  went  through  all  the 
customary  ceremonies;  but  in  saying  farewell  she  could 
not  restrain  her  tears,  and  held  her  uncle's  hand  closely 
clasped  in  hers  as  she  thanked  him  for  all  his  kindness. 

The  old  prince  was  deeply  moved.  "  Ah,  Ottilie, "said 
he,  "  I  fear  that  in  you  my  country  is  losing  its  good 
angel.  True,  I  ought  not  to  complain,  since  it  will  obtain 
great  advantages  by  your  marriage;  but  they  will  be  no 
compensation  to  my  heart  for  you.  Farewell  !  May  God 
give  you  happiness !" 


196  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

The  journey  was  the  greatest  martyrdom  to  Ottilie's 
weakened  nerves;  for  she  now  had  not  a  moment  in 
which  she  was  unwatched.  She  must  guard  every  word, 
every  look  ;  she  dared  not  yield  to  any  feelings  of  ex- 
haustion or  depression.  Thus  passed  a  day  of  torture. 
Fortunately,  when  night  came,  her  bodily  fatigue  was  so 
great  that  sleep  relieved  her  for  a  few  hours  from  her  ex- 
citement and  anxiety. 

The  following  day  they  reached  the  frontiers  of  Otti- 
lie's  second  home.  Here  she  received  a  portion  of  her 
new  court,  and  dismissed  her  former  train,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  those  who  were  appointed  to  a  place  among 
the  ranks  of  her  future  attendants.  The  exchange  be- 
tween the  old  and  new  courtiers  was  a  matter  of  com- 
parative indifference  to  her,  for  she  bad  never  expected 
to  find  these  men  anything  more  than  mere  conventional 
machines.  She  welcomed  one  party  with  the  same  affa- 
bility that  she  displayed  in  bidding  farewell  to  the  other, 
without  any  special  feeling.  The  cordial  reception  given 
her  by  the  country  people  in  the  first  little  town  on  the 
frontier  was  a  joyful  surprise,  and  when  she  at  last 
reached  the  prince's  yacht  which  lay  awaiting  her  and 
gave  her  a  royal  salute,  when  she  had  entered  it  with 
her  train,  and  on  a  most  lovely  day  floated  down  the 
broad  stream,  past  shores  adorned  with  tokens  of  wel- 
come, her  heart  began  to  swell  with  the  thought,  "You 
are  the  mistress  of  this  country.  It  belongs  to  you,  and 
its  happiness,  its  freedom,  will  perhaps  be  in  your  hands." 
And  this  ray  of  hope  cheered  her  soul  for  a  moment. 

Heinrich  watched  her  with  alternate  dread  and  joy, 
according  to  the  mood  expressed  upon  her  features.  It 
was  a  great  source  of  anxiety  to  him  how  Ottilie  would 
bear  all  these  exertions.  If  her  strength  failed,  if  she 
met  the  prince  as  a  sickly,  feeble  woman,  all  the  blame 
would  fall  upon  him  who  had  made  this  match.  She 
still  seemed  outwardly  firm  ;  but  in  spite  of  her  faultless 
bearing  it  did  not  escape  him  that  her  breast  rose  and  fell 
more  and  more  rapidly  the  nearer  she  approached  her 
destination.  He  would  gladly  have  sustained  and  ani- 
mated her  spirit  as  one  seeks  to  save  and  protect  an 
expiring  light,  but  the  unapproachable  dignity  of  mancer 


A   ROYAL   MARRIAGE.  197 

which  she  had  adopted  towards  him  since  her  marriage 
made  it  impossible,  and  caused  him  the  greatest  per- 
plexity. The  last  stage  of  the  journey  was  reached:  he 
saw  her  grow  still  paler ;  and  she  received  deputations 
from  the  city  at  which  they  had  arrived,  and  some  of 
the  highest  staff-officers  who  had  come  out  in  two  yachts 
to  meet  her,  in  a  voice  so  faint  that  the  words  were 
scarcely  audible.  It  was  with  great  anxiety  that  Hein- 
rich  saw  the  moment  of  the  meeting  between  her  and 
the  prince  approach.  And  he  was  not  wrong. 

When  the  three  steamers  left  the  last  stopping-place 
and  glided,  calmly  and  majestically,  side  by  side  down 
the  broad  stream,  countless  boats  adorned  with  gay 
streamers  put  off  from  both  shores  and  accompanied  the 
large  vessels ;  on  the  right  and  left,  before  and  behind, 
they  assembled  in  hundreds ;  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  moving  stream 
of  fluttering  pennons.  The  mistress  of  ceremonies  sig- 
nified to  Ottilie  that  she  ought  to  go  on  deck  and  show 
herself  to  the  people.  Scarcely  had  she  done  so  when 
a  loud  cheer  rang  from  thousands  of  throats :  a  greeting 
from  the  students,  the  most  promising  young  men  in  the 
country.  And  now  music  rose  from  the  foremost  boats, 
like  an  eagle  extending  its  wings  above  the  confused, 
brilliant  throng.  The  echo  repeated  the  strains  majesti- 
cally from  the  rocky  shores  ;  a  fresh  breeze  ruffled  the 
water,  and  as  if  borne  along  by  the  sound  the  boats 
dashed  on. 

Ottilie  clung  dizzily  to  the  railing  of  the  deck.  It 
seemed  as  if  her  soul  must  escape  from  its  tenement  and 
soar  into  eternity  upon  those  tones,  and  she  gazed  with 
a  strange,  unearthly  expression  at  the  magnificent  spec- 
tacle and  the  sunny  air  thrilling  with  the  notes  of  the 
music.  The  sweet  sounds  blended  into  a  threatening 
roar,  a  volley  of  artillery  !  Masts,  flags,  and  steeples 
appeared  in  the  distance. 

"  The  harbor  is  close  at  hand,  your  Highness,"  said 
Heinrich.  Ottilie  turned  pale:  the  shadow  of  death 
rested  upon  her  face.  "  Take  courage  ;  compose  yourself, 
or  all  is  lost,"  he  whispered. 

She  still  stood  erect,  and  he  watched  her  in  painful 
17* 


198  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

suspense.  The  distant  steeples  became  still  more  dis- 
tinct ;  there  was  a  second  roar  of  artillery  from  the  ac- 
companying yachts, — a  third, — the  harbor  opened  before 
Ottilie's  eyes,  and  now  began  the  thunder  of  a  hundred 
guns,  while  the  ringing  of  bells  floated  athwart  them  in 
majestic  waves  of  sound.  The  boats  fell  back  with  a 
repeated  cheer,  and  the  steamers  slowly  entered  the 
harbor.  The  rigging  of  the  ships  that  lay  at  anchor 
was  filled  with  sailors,  who  waved  their  hats  and 
shouted  a  wild  "  hurrah  !"  A  countless  throng  of  people 
on  the  edge  of  the  harbor,  at  the  windows,  and  on  the 
roofs  of  the  houses,  which  were  gayly  adorned  with 
flowers  and  tapestry,  sent  forth  their  shouts  of  "welcome 
to  Ottilie,  amid  the  thunder  of  cannon  and  the  ringing 
of  bells.  Everything  swam  before  her  eyes.  The  im- 
pression was  too  powerful ;  all  this  produced  too  violent 
an  emotion  in  her  oppressed  heart.  Yonder  stood  a 
group  of  gentlemen,  the  foremost  must  be  the  prince 
just  ready  to  enter  the  boat  which  was  to  bear  him  to 
the  ship;  a  mist  gathered  before  her  eyes,  her  heart 
stopped  beating,  the  blood  flowed  coldly  through  her 
veins :  she  laid  her  damp,  icy  hand  upon  the  shoulder 
of  the  mistress  of  ceremonies,  and  tottered.  Heinrich 
caught  her  by  the  arm,  and  both  carried  her  down  into 
the  cabin,  where  she  sank  back  utterly  unconscious. 

"  I  thought  so,"  muttered  Heinrich,  and  went  up  to 
receive  the  prince,  and  if  possible  detain  him. 

The  mistress  of  ceremonies  knew  not  what  to  do,  and 
called  the  lady's  maid.  Roschen  appeared  and  applied 
the  usual  restoratives.  Ottilie  breathed  faintly,  but  was 
unable  to  raise  her  head. 

"  The  prince  is  on  board,"  said  a  chamberlain. 

"  Oh,  God  !"  moaned  Ottilie ;  and  again  she  trembled 
violently. 

"Will  not  your  Highness  try  to  rise?"  pleaded  the 
mistress  of  ceremonies,  in  the  greatest  anxiety ;  for  the 
prince  might  now  enter  at  any  moment.  Roschen  caught 
her  in  her  arms,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  "  his  High- 
ness" was  announced.  One  last  violent  effort,  and  Ottilie 
stood  erect.  The  mistress  of  ceremonies  withdrew  with 
Roschen.  The  prince  entered.  Ottilie  bowed  with  her 


A    ROYAL    MARRIAGE.  199 

usual  stately  grace.  The  prince's  eyes  rested  with  sur- 
prise and  pleasure  upon  the  beautiful,  although  pallid, 
face.  The  aroma  of  aristocracy  which  surrounded  her 
was  wonderfully  pleasing  to  the  man  of  forms. 

"Allow  me  to  express  to  your  Highness  my  most 
heartfelt  gratitude  for  the  confidence  with  which  you 
intrust  your  future  to  me,  a  stranger;  and  receive  the 
assurance  that  I  shall  hold  so  precious  a  gift  as  sacred, 
and  know  how  to  guard  it." 

Twice  Ottilie  essayed  to  speak,  and  twice  her  voice 
failed.  At  last  her  tongue  obeyed  her  will,  aud  she 
began  :  "  Your  Highness,  the  confidence  for  which  you 
compliment  me  so  highly  is  only  a  fitting  tribute  that 
every  noble-minded  person  must  pay  to  a  prince  whose 
political  as  well  as  private  life  lies  open  and  blameless 
before  the  gaze  of  all.  It  is  far  different  with  me.  My 
existence  has  flowed  on  in  silent  seclusion.  You  know 
me  only  from  descriptions  and  from  my  letters  ;  the  latter 
might  be  dictated,  the  former  invented.  I  myself,  my 
own  character,  can  alone  win  for  me  your  esteem,  your 
friendship.  Your  Highness  will  perceive  it  is  only  natu- 
ral that  this  consciousness  should  disturb  me,  and  pardon 
my  embarrassment.  Moreover,  the  kind  and  magnificent 
reception  your  Highness  and  the  people  of  the  country 
have  bestowed  upon  me  has  moved  and  confused  me 
deeply.  I  am  not  accustomed  to  such  things.  1  am 
well  aware  that  it  is  not  given  to  my  person,  but  my 
position ;  but  I  have  so  identified  myself  with  my  new 
dignity  and  its  duties  that  I  cannot  help  taking  these 
festivities  to  myself,  and  allowing  their  overmastering 
impression  to  influence  me." 

The  prince  bad  listened  admiringly  to  the  melody  and 
grace  of  her  language.  "  Your  Highness  is  in  error  if 
you  suppose  this  reception  is  given  solely  to  your  posi- 
tion. Certain  forms  of  course  are  indispensable  on  such 
occasions  ;  but  a  rumor  has  preceded  you,  which  not  only 
secured  my  esteem,  but  excited  the  greatest  enthusiasm 
for  you  among  the  people,  and  this  you  must  have  felt. 
The  reception  was  a  sincere  one,  and  if  you  had  been 
known  the  tokens  would  have  become  still  more  enthusi- 
astic, for  I  freely  confess  that  your  appearance  has  sur- 


200  A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

passed  all  our  expectations,  and  must  win  the  heart  of 
every  one  who  sees  you." 

"This  praise  from  your  lips,  your  Highness,  makes 
me  very  proud  ;  for  I  believe  you  far  too  noble  to  expect 
insincere  flattery  from  you  in  so  solemn  an  hour." 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,  princess ;  the  hour  in  which 
two  human  beings,  who  are  united  for  life,  see  each  other 
for  the  first  time,  is  a  very  solemn  one,  for  it  holds  the 
key  of  our  whole  future.  I  am  therefore  the  more  joy- 
fully surprised  to  find  in  you  a  nature  which  opens  to 
me  the  hope  of  a  happy  marriage.  Permit  me  to  believe 
that  at  least  you  do  not  feel  the  contrary  to  be  the 
case  ?" 

Ottilie  tried  to  speak. 

"  Do  not  answer  me,"  interrupted  the  prince.  "  How 
could  I  be  so  ungallant  as  to  seek  to  call  forth  compli- 
mentary assurances  from  a  lady  ?  No,  you  shall  not 
tell  me  so  ;  you  shall  only  allow  me  to  feel  it.  I  shall 
eagerly  await  the  moment  when  your  eyes  will  tell  me 
that  your  heart  has  confirmed  the  choice  which  destiny 
imposed." 

"  Your  Highness,"  replied  Ottilie,  "  receive  the  assur- 
ance that  I  have  no  other  wish  than  that  of  making  you 
and  your  people  happy.  I  will  be  an  obedient  and  faithful 
wife,  and  never  ask  anything  of  you  except  indulgence. 
Be  assured  that  I  shall  never  claim  any  tokens  of  love 
from  you.  No  feeling  of  affection  has  united  us  who  are 
total  strangers  to  each  other ;  we  both  yielded  to  the 
commands  of  political  necessity.  It  depends  upon  our- 
selves to  lend  value  to  such  a  tie,  to  form  a  more  or  less 
cordial  bond  of  friendship,  but  not  to  conjure  up  emotions 
which  the  heart  receives  only  as  revelations.  I  tell  you 
this,  your  Highness,  that  in  your  noble  chivalrousness 
you  may  not  think  it  necessary  to  delude  yourself  and 
me  by  the  expression  of  such  feelings.  I  shall  have  at- 
tained the  highest  goal  of  my  hopes  if  you  will  some  day 
bear  witness  that  I  have  not  entered  your  life  as  a  dis- 
turbing element,  but  to  bring  a  blessing." 

"  I  understand  your  Highness's  delicacy  of  feeling. 
Your  every  word  affords  me  a  fresh  proof  of  the  treasure 
I  possess  in  you,  and  I  hope  a  bond  will  be  developed 


A    ROYAL   MARRIAGE.  201 

between  us  higher  and  firmer  than  one  founded  on  mere 
chance  sympathy,— a  bond  of  mutual  comprehension  and 
unchanging  esteem.  Shall  it  not  be  so,  my  Ottilie  ?" 

"May  God  grant  it,  your  Highness  !" 

"Etiquette  commands  that  I  should  now  leave  your 
Highness.  To-morrow  at  the  cathedral  I  shall  take 
pride  in  presenting  you  to  the  nation  as  its  princess, — as 
a  true  princess.  Yes,  I  am  proud  of  my  noble  wife,"  he 
added,  emphasizing  the  words,  while  a  cold  smile  gleamed 
over  his  smooth  features.  He  pressed  his  lips  lightly  to 
Ottilie's  hand  and  withdrew.  She  stood  motionless  and 
exhausted;  tears  no  longer  dimmed  her  eyes:  her  destiny 
was  fixed.  She  now  knew  the  man  to  whom  she  belonged, 
and  what  she  had  to  expect  from  him. 

The  mistress  of  ceremonies  entered,  and  again  she 
was  forced  to  add  another  link  to  the  chain  of  self-denial 
which  already  rested  so  heavily  upon  her  weary  shoulders. 
Heinrich  breathed  more  freely  when  the  prince's  own 
lips  expressed  his  satisfaction  with  his  choice ;  although 
he  regretted  his  deed,  he  must  still  desire  it  to  be  crowned 
with  complete  success,  since  his  whole  destiny  depended 
upon  it.  Moreover,  his  remorse  was  not  so  sincere  as  he 
had  made  Ottilie  believe  in  their  last  interview,  or  even 
as  he  had  believed  himself.  It  had  unconsciously  been 
heightened  by  the  selfish  fear  that  he  had  sacrificed 
Ottilie  uselessly, — uselessly  for  himself,  for  he  could  no 
longer  doubt  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  her  character. 
She  was  wholly  changed  from  what  she  had  been  in 
former  days;  with  the  same  greatness  of  soul  which  had 
led  her  to  show  her  love  for  him  when  free,  she  concealed 
it  now  that  she  was  bound.  He  perceived  that  she 
possessed  one  of  those  deep  natures  which  seize  upon  all 
that  they  believe  to  be  their  appointed  destiny  with  silent, 
unassuming  tenacity  of  .purpose,  and  hold  it  steadfastly 
to  the  end.  So  had  she  clung  to  him  when  she  believed 
herself  marked  out  for  no  other  fate  than  to  love  and 
suffer;  and  now  she  seemed  to  cleave  with  the  same  self- 
denial,  if  not  to  her  husband,  to  the  duties  of  her  new 
vocation.  Here  was  the  solution  of  his  false  reckoning; 
and  he  now  quickly  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
nothing  more  to  hope  from  her  for  the  furtherance  of  his 
i* 


202  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

ambition  than  any  other ;  that  she  would  even  consider  it  a 
needful  victory  over  herself  not  to  favor  him.  Thus  he 
had  now  accomplished  an  act  which  he  must  despise  as 
one  of  the  most  horrible  results  of  his  selfishness, — robbed 
himself  of  a  friend  to  whom  he  might  have  fled  in  every 
vicissitude  of  life;  he  had  solved  so  many  difficult 
problems  in  politics  and  love,  ruled  the  most  reserved 
and  haughtiest  women,  struggled  victoriously  with  the 
first  intellects  of  his  court,  but  by  the  simple  greatness 
of  her  character  his  plan  was  baffled, — because  he  knew 
only  the  strength  of  her  love,  not  the  power  of  her  virtue. 
Ottilie  was  a  complete  contrast  to  himself;  with  all  his 
intellect  he  could  not  understand  a  character  destitute  of 
all,  even  the  most  necessary  selfishness ;  and  thus  he  was 
at  last  compelled  to  confess  himself  vanquished  by  the 
power  of  a  goodness  in  which  he  had  never  believed.  He 
pitied  Ottilie  as  the  martyr  of  exaggerated  ideas,  and  felt 
that  across  the  barriers  of  this  loyal  "  prejudice"  no  sym- 
pathizing intercourse  could  ever  take  place  between  them. 
He  was  now  thrown  entirely  upon  himself  and  Cornelia  ; 
he  did  not  possess  even  one  friend,  for  he  lacked  the  only 
foundations  of  friendship, — unselfishness  and  confidence. 
Cornelia  alone  now  captivated  his  sensual  as  well  as  his 
intellectual  nature.  She  was  the  last  and  only  thing  left 
him,  and  the  secretly  lonely  and  dissatisfied  man  clung 
to  her  with  all  the  strength  of  his  life.  The  hours  during 
which  he  was  compelled  to  attend  the  marriage  festivities 
dragged  slowly  and  painfully. 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES.  203 

XVI. 

THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES. 

MEANTIME  Cornelia  awaited  him  in  her  quiet  salon, 
where  the  roses  always  bloomed  like  eternal  lamps  of 
love.  She  was  alone.  Veronica's  health  had  become 
somewhat  delicate  of  late,  and  she  was  taking  an  after- 
noon nap  in  her  room.  Cornelia  hoped  to  receive  Hein- 
rich's  first  glance  unobserved.  She  had  spent  the  three 
days  since  Ottilie's  arrival  in  idle  dreams,  longings,  and 
expectations,  and  had  sought  solitude  that  Veronica 
might  not  perceive  her  indolence.  It  was  impossible  for 
her  to  fix  her  attention  upon  anything  except  the  one 
thought, — "He  will  soou  arrive."  She  had  never  be- 
lieved that  any  one  could  spend  three  whole  days  in  such 
complete  inaction.  She  did  not  go  out,  even  to  visit  the 
prison,  lest  she  should  miss  him,  and  thanked  God  when 
any  one  rang  the  bell,  because  she  had  the  pleasure  of 
fancying  for  a  moment  that  it  was  he.  To-day  this 
satisfaction  had  fallen  to  her  lot  very  rarely  ;  the  street 
and  house  were  silent,  and  she  walked  impatiently  up 
and  down  the  smooth  inlaid  floor,  played  with  the  roses, 
made  an  old  mandarin  nod  his  head,  incessantly  looked 
into  the  glass  to  see  whether  she  would  please  her  lover, 
threw  herself  on  the  yellow  sofa,  and  fancied  he  was 
beside  her;  thought  of  a  thousand  things  she  wanted  to 
tell  him,  took  up  one  of  the  faded  velvet-covered  albums, 
turned  the  leaves  without  reading  a  word,  and  at  last 
started  up  in  joyful  surprise,  for  the  bell  was  now  really 
pulled,  and  so  violently,  so  impatiently, — it  must  be  he. 
She  hurried  into  the  antechamber. 

"  I'll  tell  you  if  any  one  comes,"  said  the  old  servant, 
as  sulkily  as  if  he  knew  whom  Cornelia  expected,  and 
walked  slowly  on  to  open  the  door. 

Cornelia  retired  in  great  embarrassment,  and  waited 
behind  the  folding-doors.  Yes,  it  was  the  well-known 
step  upon  the  stairs,  along  the  corridor ;  he  was  ap- 
proaching. The  blissful  certainty  overwhelmed  her  with 


204  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

suffocating  violence,  and  now  she  could  see  nothing, 
for  two  eager  arms  had  clasped  her  and  pressed  her 
closely  to  a  throbbing  heart. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  a  moment  when  tlie 
world  seemed  to  be  hushed,  and  divinity  itself  listened 
in  delight  to  the  sweetest  language  given  to  the  human 
heart, — the  mute  language  of  love.  Then  Henri's  lips 
sought  her  own,  and  softly,  softly  she  whispered  a 
thousand  sweet  names ;  but  every  word  died  in  a  kiss ; 
and  thus  words  and  caresses  struggled  long  in  a  secret 
conflict  for  the  mastery. 

"  Let  me  look  at  you,"  said  Cornelia,  at  last ;  and 
drawing  back,  took  his  head  between  her  bands  and 
raised  it.  "  You  have  grown  handsomer ;  you  look 
milder,  graver,  and  yet  happier." 

"  It  is  my  love  for  you,  Cornelia.  If  the  features  take 
the  impress  of  the  soul,  I  must  become  more  and  more 
like  you.  You  are  so  perfect,  Cornelia,  that  your  Creator 
in  his  delight  over  his  work  wished  to  make  a  copy  of 
you  ;  and  see,  be  chose  me  !  My  soul  is  nothing  more 
than  the  background  upon  which  the  finger  of  God  has 
engraved  your  image." 

"Oh,  noble  spirit,  you  always  give  the  fairest  ex- 
pression of  every  feeling, — earth  and  heaven  are  open  to 
your  flight!  Will  you  now  linger  with  me?  Do  I  hold 
this  dear  head  clasped  in  my  hands  ?  Dare  I  call  you 
mine,  and  kiss  the  brow  on  which  you  are  enthroned?" 
asked  Cornelia,  in  dreamy  delight. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Cornelia,  the  spirit  is  yours,  for  you  have 
been  the  first  to  awaken  it.  Lay  the  head  that  contains 
it  on  your  breast,  let  your  hand  rest  lovingly  upon  it, 
and  it  will  disdain  heaven  and  earth,  and  linger  here, 
here  on  this  one  sweet  spot  forever,  forever!" 

He  stooped  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  Cornelia's  heart. 
Blushing  deeply,  she  laid  her  clasped  hands  upon  his  dark 
hair  and  raised  her  eyes  in  an  ecstasy  of  love.  "  Oh,  God, 
one  who  bad  denied  thee  throughout  a  whole  lifetime 
must  acknowledge  tbee  in  such  an  hour  I" 

"You  pious  priestess,  priestess  of  a  religion  whose 
blessings  I  gratefully  feel  at  this  moment,  shall  I  tell  you 
how  I  pray  to  you, — yes,  pray  fervently  and  devoutly  ?  I 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED  BRIDES.  205 

know  that  in  you  I  possess  the  greatest  blessing  earth 
can  offer,  and  that  I  do  not  deserve  it.  If  I  had  not 
found  it  I  should  have  gone  to  destruction  ;  but  you  will 
lead  me  back  from  the  exhausted  pleasures  of  the  world 
to  pure  nature,  to  truth  and  simplicity  of  heart.  A  new 
day  breaks  upon  me  through  you, — an  Easter-day, — for 
in  you  my  better  self  celebrates  its  resurrection.  Your 
breath  is  the  fresh  air  of  morning,  the  dawn  glows  upon 
your  cheeks,  and  in  your  eyes  beams  the  sunrise  of  a 
happiness  never  known  before.  Come,  let  me  inhale  your 
breath.  Ah,  youth,  purity,  and  strength  emanate  from 
you  to  revive  and  cheer  !"  He  again  pressed  his  lips  to 
hers  for  a  moment.  "Now,"  he  continued,  "the  whole 
man  is  exclusively  and  entirely  yours,  yours  forever ;  do 
with  him  whatever  you  choose,  for  he  has  no  longer  any 
claim  to  a  life  which  you  alone  preserved  to  him,  and 
which  without  you  would  have  been  lost." 

"  What  shall,  what  can,  I  say  to  you  in  return  for  such 
words  ?  Not  I,  but  you  yourself  took*  the  new  flight 
which  has  made  you  so  dear  to  me.  What  could  I  be  to 
you?  What  influence  could  the  few  moments  we  have 
spent  together  exert?" 

"  And  if  I  should  ask  you  the  same  question,  and  in- 
quire how  you  could  love  me  in  so  short  a  time,  what 
would  you  reply  ?" 

"Why,  that  love  and  mutual  understanding  do  not 
depend  upon  time." 

"  The  case  is  precisely  the  same  with  me,  my  child. 
Years  of  study  and  intercourse  are  not  necessary  to 
understand  a  superior  nature.  A  few  traits  enable  it  to 
be  characterized,  single  extremes  allow  its  full  compass 
to  be  measured,  and  as  one  accord  contains  the  elements 
of  music,  so  it  can  easily  reveal  to  the  observer  the  key- 
notes of  its  soul ;  and  you  did  this.  Wherever  I  struck, 
it  echoed.  I  know  the  whole  scale  of  your  nature,  al- 
though a  thousand  sweet  harmonies  which  may  be  formed 
from  it  are  still  concealed  from  me." 

"  Tell  me,  Heinrich,  how  long  have  you  loved  me  ?" 

"  Since,  since — permit  me  to  answer  you  with  the 
most  common  of  all  forms  of  speech, — since  the  first  time 
I  saw  you." 

18 


206  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Since  our  meeting  in  the  prison  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  powerful  impression  I 
received  from  you.  I  was  astonished  I  Your  boldness, 
your  disregard  of  my  dignity,  your  philanthropic  enthu- 
siasm, so  entirely  devoid  of  all  affectation  and  sentiment- 
ality, aroused  the  greatest  admiration,  and  your  beauty 
excited  my  love.  Had  you  been  merely  beautiful,  I  should 
only  have  desired  you ;  but  since  you  showed  an  equal 
intellect,  I  love  you,  and  loved  you  from  the  beginning 
as  I  never  did  any  other." 

"As  you  never  loved  any  other?"  asked  Cornelia.  She 
had  seated  herself  upon  the  sofa,  and  he  took  a  chair 
beside  her.  She  folded  her  arms  upon  the  little  barrier 
the  broad  side  of  the  divan  formed  between  them,  and 
they  gazed  lovingly  into  each  other's  eyes. 

"As  I  never  loved  any  other,"  repeated  Henri.  "  If  you 
fully  realized  your,  own  value,  you  would  not  look  at  me 
so  incredulously.  You  would  know  that  you  must  be 
loved  differently*  from  the  commonplace  girls  with  whom 
people  can  only  trifle,  whose  insignificance  renders  all 
serious  conversation  impossible.  There  is  nothing  which 
continues  to  keep  a  woman  interesting  to  a  man  except 
originality  ;  and  before  I  knew  you  I  almost  despaired 
of  finding  it.  The  female  mind  cannot  reach  the  percep- 
tion of  things  by  the  established,  endlessly  long  path 
marked  out  for  it ;  it  has  not  sufficient  perseverance,  can- 
not keep  pace  with  man.  Most  women  pause  half-way, 
with  the  goal  before  their  eyes,  but  unable  to  reach  it ; 
they  then  become  weary,  disgusted  with  the  world,  and 
consume  themselves  in  idle  longings,  which  they  at  last 
permit  some  friend  to  heal.  Others  turn  into  by-paths 
of  fruitless  scholarship,  and  wonder  aimlessly  to  and  fro  ; 
such  persons  become  utterly  disagreeable,  a  terror  to 
every  man,  for  they  enter  into  a  sort  of  intellectual  com- 
petition with  him,  which  is  charmless  and  a  mere  waste 
of  time,  because  there  is  no  true  honorable  victory  to  be 
obtained  in  such  an  unequal  struggle.  The  true  womanly 
nature  knows  the  extent  of  her  powers;  she  does  not  strive 
for  things  too  far  beyond  her,  for  she  cheerfully  makes 
out  her  own  object  and  builds  her  own  path  to  it.  This 
unthinking  exercise  of  natural  instincts,  this  radiance  of 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES.  20 1 

free,  pure  thought,  beaming  from  a  youthful  brow,  is  ex" 
tremely  refreshing,  and  while  I  am  with  you  I  regret 
every  moment  that  I  cannot  philosophize  with  you  about 
everything  in  earth  or  heaven.  But  the  mouth  which 
speaks  so  wisely  is  far  too  sweet,  and  so  my  senses  are 
constantly  battling  with  my  intellect.  I  cannot  kiss  you 
without  wishing  you  were  talking,  and  I  cannot  hear  you 
speak  without  wanting  to  kiss  you.  Is  not_this  an  un- 
fortunate contradiction?" 

"  Ought  it  not  to  be  harmonized  ?  Cannot  people  be 
both  sensible  and  affectionate  ?"  asked  Cornelia. 

"  No,  my  angel !  In  your  presence  I  have  not  the 
necessary  calmness,"  said  Henri,  involuntarily  casting 
down  his  eyes.  "  Clearness  of  thought  requires  cool 
blood;  and  when  I  am  so  near  you,  when  your  sweet 
breath  floats  over  me,  and  your  warm  hand  rests  in  mine, 
my  heart  throbs  violently,  and  sends  the  blood  so  quickly 
through  my  veins,  that  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  you 
and  my  ardent  love  !" 

"  Oh,  do  not  look  at  me  so  fiercely  !  Your  kindling  eyes 
pierce  my  soul  until  I  cannot  help  blushing.  You  do 
not  know  how  terribly  your  glances  flash.  I  do  not  fear 
you,  but  a  strange  horror  overwhelms  me  when  I  see  you 
thus.  I  feel  myself  a  match  for  the  spirit  that  darts 
menacing  looks  from  those  eyes,  and  a  shudder  thrills  my 
soul  as  the  wind  rustles  gently  through  the  banners  before 
a  battle." 

"So  you  are  belligerently  disposed  towards  me,  Cor- 
nelia?" 

"  No,  indeed ;  except  when  you  are  in  your  present 
mood  :  then,  I  know,  I  shall  often  be  compelled  to  up- 
hold my  standard  against  you." 

"  And  what  standard  might  that  be?" 

"  That  of  gentleness,  truth:  in  one  word,  virtue,"  she 
said,  simply  and  firmly. 

"  Do  you  think  me  destitute  of  them  ?" 

"  Yes.  Understand  me  correctly.  You  have  a  multi- 
tude of  great  and  lovable  qualities  which  distinguish 
you  from  the  million, — a  multitude  of  virtues,  but  not  the 
virtue  which  we  designate  by  one  word,  and  in  an  indi- 
visible sense.  A  person  may  not  possess  nearly  as  many 


208  ^   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

noble  traits,  and  yet  be  far  more  virtuous  than  you. 
Virtue  is  the  pure,  conscious  will  which  unites  the  scat- 
tered capacities  for  good,  and  matures  them  to  moral 
actions;  and  this  quality  you  lack." 

Ottmar  had  become  very  grave.  Henri  was  present 
no  longer :  Heinrich  had  taken  his  place.  Cornelia  laid 
her  head  upon  his  hands,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  the  fondest 
affection :  "  Now  you  are  so  quiet  and  cold,  have  I  vexed 
you  ?" 

"No,  my  child;  but  you  have  given  me  something  to 
think  about,  which  makes  me  grave.  You  women  have 
a  wonderful  talent  for  moralizing.  Your  conscience 
wishes  to  make  up  for  the  too  great  indulgence  of  your 
hearts,  and  therefore  you  are  the  sternest  censors  of  the 
man  you  love." 

"  We  women?  Have  you  said  the  same  thing  to  other 
women  ?" 

"  Only  one  except  yourself;  but  her  theories  were  re- 
pellent. She  gave  me  no  proof  in  her  own  person  that 
she  possessed  a  cheering  power  in  her  own  nature.  She 
was  a  sad,  pale,  melancholy  vision,  so  her  influence  over 
me  also  faded;  yet,  I  shall  always  hold  her  memory 
sacred." 

"Who  was  she?  Heinrich,  a  shadow  has  fallen  upon 
your  mood :  who  was  it  you  mourn  for  as  a  departed 
spirit  ?" 

"A  poor  creature,  whose  suffering  constantly  pervades 
all  my  joys,  whose  misery  always  appears  greater  to  me 
the  more  my  own  happiness  increases,  the  more  I  learn 
to  believe  in  the  might  of  true  feeling.  Yes,  yes,  Cor- 
nelia, you  are  right;  I  may  have  virtues,  but  they  princi- 
pally exist  in  the  fact  that  I  can  still  regret  the  virtue  I 
lack.  Oh,  if  I  could  but  cast  aside  my  past  with  all  its 
errors  and  reproaches,  like  the  cocoon  of  a  butterfly,  and 
soar  forth  in  freedom  as  a  new,  winged,  purified  creature!" 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  name  of  the  unhappy  woman  about 
whom  remorse  is  now  torturing  you,"  began  Cornelia, 
after  a  pause  of  earnest  thought, — "  it  is  Princess  Ottilie." 

Heinrich  started  up.  "  Girl !  How  did  such  an  idea 
enter  your  head?" 

Cornelia  looked  at  him  intently.     "It  is  so." 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES.  209 

"Who  told  you?" 

"  I  thought  of  it  myself.  Ottilie  imposed  inviolable 
secrecy  upon  Roschen  ;  what  motive  induced  her  to  do 
so  if  she  did  not  love  you  ?  What  duty  led  Princess 
Ottilie  to  spare  Herr  von  Ottmar  except  a  tender  obliga- 
tion of  the  heart  ?  All  this,  however,  might  be  explained; 
but  I  was  at  the  harbor  when  you  arrived,  I  saw  the 
princess  turn  pale,  saw  you  approach  anxiously  and 
whisper  a  few  words,  perceived  hog*,  with  a  glance  at 
you,  she  composed  herself,  how  earnestly  you  watched 
her,  and  at  last  sprang  to  her  assistance  as  if  the  whole 
responsibility  of  caring  for  her  devolved  upon  you  alone. 
I  saw  this  lady  was  experiencing  some  great  inward  con- 
flict ;  and  your  anxiety  showed  that  you  were  aware  of 
it.  I  felt  there  was  some  silent,  mutual  bond  between 
you, — in  what  it  exists  I  know  not,  but  it  does  exist ; 
and  if  I  make  it  agree  with  what  you  have  just  said, 
then,  Heinrich,  I  fear  you  have  great  cause  for  self- 
reproach." 

"You  have  watched  me  with  the  eyes  of  love,  and 
formed  a  tolerably  clear  idea  of  the  true  state  of  affairs. 
It  would  be  useless  to  deny  your  guess,  you  would  still 
believe  it.  In  such  matters  one  can  deceive  the  world, 
but  not  the  instinct  of  a  clever  woman.  What  shall  I 
say  to  you  ? — spare  me  further  particulars  concerning 
things  which  are  not  my  secret.  I  will  freely  confess 
that,  with  the  exception  of  yourself,  she  was  my  only 
friend, — that  I  owe  her  much  and  shall  always  pity  her." 

"  Poor  lady  1"  said  Cornelia,  softly.  "  If  she  loves  you, 
she  is  greatly  to  be  pitied,  for  she  can  never  forget  you, 
— never  be  happy  again  !" 

"  Does  your  own  heart  tell  you  that,  Cornelia?" 

"  Yes.  Whoever  has  once  felt  the  magic  of  your 
nature  can  never  love  another,  and  is  bound  to  you  for 
life ;  the  whole  world  contains  nothing  nobler  than  your- 
self." 

Heinrichtook  her  hands  and  pressed  them  to  his  breast. 
"  Dearest,  you  are  my  happiness  and  my  salvation  !  Cor- 
nelia, I  love  you.  I  would  fain  breathe  forth  my  life  in 
those  few  words  :  '  I  love  you  !'  "  Cornelia  felt  that 
tears  were  dimming  her  eves,  and  tried  to  conceal  them. 
*18* 


210  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"Oh,  do  not  be  ashamed  of  these  tears!  Happy  is 
the  human  being  who  can  weep.  Teach  me  the  lesson 
too,  and  you  will  have  accomplished  what  not  even  God 
could  do!" 

"And  if  I  should  succeed,  Heinrich,  it  would  still  be 
only  by  the  help  of  God,  who  blessed  my  efforts.  He 
will  let  me  find  means  to  do  so,  if  he  wishes  to  raise  you 
by  my  hand.  Do  not  smile.  I  cannot  help  calling  the 
power  to  which  you  give  a  thousand  titles  by  the  name 
of  God ;  cannot  intentionally  fail  in  my  duty  to  him.  I 
cannot  live  without  this  God, — may  not  deny  him.  When 
I  was  a  child  he  stood  beside  my  bed  and  I  could  talk  to 
him.  I  associated  with  him  all  my  thoughts  of  my 
father;  my  mother  appeared  to  me  beautiful  and  radiant 
in  his  heavenly  majesty,  I  have  so  often  folded  my 
little  hands  reverently  and  thought  he  heard  me  ;  and  am 
I  now  to  believe  the  soulless  air  wafted  my  fervent 
prayer  away, — that  so  much  love,  so  much  devotion,  was 
lavished  on  a  phantom  ?  Oh,  my  childish  faith  has 
increased  with  my  growth  ! — it  has  somewhere  become 
part  of  my  nature ;  for  if  I  try  to  separate  from  it,  a~pang 
passes  through  my  soul,  and  I  feel  that  some  spiritual 
nerve,  the  connecting  link  between  God  and  myself,  is 
wounded." 

"You  are  a  woman,  Cornelia,  and  it  would  be  wicked 
to  cast  a  word  of  doubt  into  the  sanctuary  of  your  pious 
heart.  We  have  already  spoken  of  this  matter  once,  and 
you  almost  made  me  an  enthusiast." 

"Is  it  really  so?"  interrupted  Cornelia.  "  Oh,  if  you 
confess  that,  much  is  gained,  and  I  shall  henceforth  work 
upon  your  'enthusiasm'!  You  know,  Heinrich,  that 
natures  like  ours  are  always  set  apart  from  the  rest  of 
mankind.  Life  often  becomes  unendurable  ;  reverses  of 
fortune  may  occur  which  even  philosophy  can  no  longer 
help  us  to  bear,  and  we  can  nowhere  find  a  home.  Then 
it  is  fortunate  if  we  can  flee  from  earth  to  that  wonder- 
land of  fancy,  our  inalienable  home.  There  are  sorrows, 
too,  Heiurich,  which  cannot  endure  the  classical  training 
of  an  empty  doctrine,  and  which,  destroying  everything 
in  their  course,  dash  wildly  over  us.  Then  the  soul 
grasps  for  some  support,  and  in  its  agony  shrieks  for  a 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES.  211 

God  ;  and  if  there  were  none,  it  would  create  him  for 
itself,  that  its  cry  for  help  might  not  echo  back  from  an 
empty  void.  But  such  a  self-created  God  gives  no  com- 
fort, but  jeers  at  you  mockingly,  like  the  spectre  of  your 
own  agony,  and  melts  away  before  your  eyes,  while  the 
true  God  cannot  approach  to  comfort  you,  for  you  do  not 
believe  in  him,  and  only  by  faith  does  he  work  his  mira- 
cles." Cornelia  paused;  for  Heinrich  was  on  his  knees 
before  her  with  his  face  buried  in  her  lap. 

"  If  in  such  an  hour  I  still  have  you,  I  need  no  God  !" 
he  exclaimed,  fairly  beside  himself. 

"  Do  not  blaspheme  !"  pleaded  Cornelia.  "And  suppose 
you  did  not  have  me?  Suppose  it  should  be  God's  will 
to  separate  us,  and  you  were  alone, — entirely  alone  ?" 

"  Cornelia,  how  can  you  think  of  such  a  thing  while 
you  clasp  me  in  your  arms  ?  If  we  should  lose  each 
other,  what  should  I  become?  An  embodied  negation, 
separated  from  all  connection  with  mankind,  withered  in 
mind  and  body, — a  living  corpse,  to  which  the  world  is 
only  a  grave." 

"  Heinrich,  dear,  dear  Heinrich  !  you  inspire  me  with 
both  compassion  and  horror!  Oh,  banish  these  gloomy 
spirits  from  your  mind,  and  become  light-hearted  and 
gentle  !  Fate  is  not  subdued  by  threats  and  blasphemies ; 
the  ground  on  which  happiness  willingly  builds  its  nest 
must  be  firm  and  peaceful,  not  trembling  with  volcanic 
shocks  and  rumbling  with  peals  of  thunder.  Come,  be 
gentle ;  such  wicked  words  ill  suit  your  delicate  mouth. 
Smile  again ;  Yeronica  will  soon  wake  up,  and  then  we 
can  no  longer  express  our  love  in  fond  caresses." 

"Yes,  that  is  true!"  cried  Heinrich;  "let  us  enjoy 
the  moment  while  we  may."  And  it  was  Henri  who  now 
threw  himself  upon  the  sofa  beside  Cornelia  and  drew 
her  closely  to  him. 

Cornelia  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  His  eyes 
were  beaming  with  ardent  feeling;  a  warmer  color 
tinged  his  cheeks ;  his  mouth,  half-smiling,  half-pouted 
for  a  kiss,  was  irresistibly  alluring.  "  It  often  seems  as 
if  you  changed  places  with  some  one,  and  in  an  instant 
became  an  entirely  different  man.  I  never  saw  such 
sudden  alterations  of  mood." 


212  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Ah,  do  not  speak!  kiss  me!"  pleaded  Henri.  "Dar- 
ling, how  I  have  longed  for  those  lips!  Many  a  night 
have  I  tossed  as  if  in  a  fever,  thirsting,  yearning  for  you. 
Did  you  think  of  me  when  you  went  to  rest?" 

"  Yes,  a  thousand  times.  I  have  never  fallen  asleep 
without  calling  '  Good-night,  Heinrich  !'  and  the  words 
became  my  nightly  prayer.  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

44  How  beautiful !     What  time  do  you  say  it?" 

44  At  eleven  :   when  I  am  in  bed." 

41  In  future  I  shall  always  say,  4  Pleasant  dreams, 
Cornelia !'  You  will  remember  it,  won't  you,  my  dar- 
ling?" 

44  Of  course  I  shall,"  she  whispered,  pressing  her  cheek 
close  to  his. 

Light,  scarcely  audible  footsteps  approached.  Cornelia 
started  up.  4l  Veronica  is  coming  !" 

The  door  slowly  opened,  and  she  entered,  kindly  as 
ever,  but  pale,  as  if  there  was  not  a  drop  of  blood  in  her 
sunken  features.  Her  slender  figure  seemed  still  more 
shrunken,  and  there  was  not  a  tinge  of  color  about  the 
ghostly  apparition  except  the  light-blue  ribbon  upon  her 
white  cap.  The  lovely  eyes  were  more  hollow,  more 
lustreless,  than  in  former  days;  the  silvery  curls  drooped 
more  negligently  about  her  face.  Henri  perceived  a 
change  in  her,  and  as  it  soon  became  evident  that  there 
was  no  alteration  in  her  intellectual  powers  it  must  be  a 
bodily  one.  In  such  delicate  equable  natures  all  secret 
changes  give  very  faint  external  tokens  of  their  exist- 
ence, and  it  requires  a  watchful,  practiced  eye  to  detect 
them.  Cornelia  was  too  much  preoccupied  with  her  own 
feelings,  the  slight,  gradual  alterations  in  Veronica's 
appearance  did  not  attract  her  attention  ;  but  Henri,  who 
had  not  seen  her  for  a  long  time,  noticed  them  at  once. 

"  My  dear  count,  I  did  not  know  you  were  here,  or  I 
should  not  have  yielded  to  the  heavy  slumber  which 
always  overpowers  me  now.  I  must  beg  you  to  excuse 
me,  but  I  have  no  doubt  Cornelia  has  entertained  you  so 
well  that  you  have  not  missed  me.  Besides,  age  no 
longer  harmonizes  with  youth.  It  is  too  dull  for  the 
sympathy  and  susceptibility  required  to  enter  into  the 
rapidly  changing  details  of  a  conversation." 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED  BRIDES.  213 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  that !"  pleaded  Henri.  "With  your 
fresh  intellect  one  can  accommodate  one's  self  to  every 
form  of  change  ;  but  it  would  be  uncourteous  to  Fraulein 
Cornelia,  if  I  did  not  say  that  I  am  indebted  to  her  for  a 
most  delightful  hour."  He  smilingly  took  her  hand  and 
pressed  it  warmly. 

Veronica  looked  earnestly  at  them  both,  and  Henri 
noticed  it. 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  my  influence  over  your  Cor- 
nelia? Is  she  not  once  more  as  blooming  as  a  rose?" 

"Oh,  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  your  friendship, 
my  dear  count !  But,  Cornelia,  you  are  not  only  bloom- 
ing, you  are  fairly  glowing  to-day.  You  must  have  been 
talking  very  earnestly." 

Cornelia's  blushes  grew  still  deeper  at  this  remark. 
She  glanced  at  Henri;  he  was  apparently  gazing  irreso- 
lutely into  vacancy. 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  child?  Does  your  head 
ache?  You  really  make  me  uneasy." 

Cornelia  started  up  and  threw  herself  at  Veronica's 
feet.  "No,  I  cannot  bear  it;  I  could  keep  silent,  but  I 
cannot  lie.  Veronica,  forgive  my  past  reserve, — it  was 
painful  enough  to  me;  but  now  you  question  me,  I  will 
tell  you  the  truth.  Veronica,  must  I  speak  plainly? 
Yes,  yes,  it  is  as  you  think." 

Henri  was  in  a  state  of  painful  embarrassment,  and 
thought  to  himself,  "Who  can  teach  a  woman  to  be 
silent?" 

Veronica  sat  speechless  and  clasped  her  trembling 
hands.  After  a  pause  Henri  approached  and  touched 
Cornelia's  head.  "  Here  is  all  the  happiness  that  earth 
contains.  You  will  not  refuse  it  to  me,  my  motherly 
friend  ?" 

"  I  have  wished  and  thought  that  this  might  be,  but 
now  it  has  happened  I  am  so  greatly  startled  that  I  can 
scarcely  speak  !"  Overpowered  by  her  emotion,  she 
clasped  Cornelia  in  her  arms.  "  My  child,  my  only 
one,  my  all,  whom  I  have  so  faithfully  cherished,  I  con- 
fide you  to  the  protection  of  this  noble  man,  and  am  per- 
fectly assured  that  he  will  make  you  happy.  Come,  my 
son,  and  receive  my  blessing."  She  laid  her  clasped 


214  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

bands  upon  his  brow.  "  May  God  be  merciful  unto  you 
and  bless  you,  and  show  you  the  light  of  his  countenance 
and  be  merciful  unto  you  !" 

The  last  words  died  upon  her  lips;  the  emotion  was 
too  great.  She  sank  back,  while  Henri  and  Cornelia 
affectionately  supported  her.  The  latter  was  deeply 
agitated.  She  now  perceived,  for  the  first  time,  in  what 
a  frail  shell  this  beloved  life  was  contained,  by  what 
feeble  threads  it  was  still  bound  to  earth,  and  hot  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks.  Henri  himself  was  not  wholly 
destitute  of  sympathy.  He  esteemed  Veronica,  and 
understood  Cornelia's  feeling.  At  last  she  regained  her 
consciousness,  and  gazed  at  them  with  her  loving  eyes. 
"  Have  I  alarmed  you  ?  I  most  sincerely  regret  i.t ;  but 
my  life  has  long  flowed  on  so  calmly  and  equably  that  I 
am  unaccustomed  to  all  emotion.  But,  dear  Cornelia, 
you  must  remember  the  possibility  of  my  leaving  you. 
Do  not  weep;  let  the  consciousness  that  you  have  never 
cost  me  a  single  sorrowful  hour  console  you.  You  have 
developed  a  lofty,  free,  and  noble  nature,  and  yet  always 
given  me  the  submissive  heart  of  a  child;  have  spared 
my  weaknesses,  and  never  permitted  me  to  feel  how  far 
you  bad  risen  above  me.  God  will  reward  you  for  it. 
And  now  that  my  last  wish  is  fulfilled,  and  I  know  you 
are  safe  in  the  arms  of  your  betrothed,  I  can  cheerfully 
depart  to  my  sainted  lover." 

"  Ob,  do  not  talk  so,  Veronica  !"  pleaded  Cornelia. 
"  You  are  strewing  wormwood  over  this  blissful  hour." 

"  Why,  my  child  ?  You  do  not  grudge  me  the  peace 
contained  in  the  thought  of  death,  and  I  feel  that  the 
time  which  separates  me  from  my  betrothed  is  drawing 
to  a  close.  If  you  only  knew  how  I  rejoice  over  it ! 
We  have  been  obliged  to  wait  for  long  years, — he  there 
and  I  here;  but  a  human  life  is  but  a  short  span  com- 
pared to  eternity.  We  shall  meet  again,  and  our  tem- 
porary separation  will  only  be  an  interruption,  not  the 
destruction  of  our  intercourse." 

Cornelia  gazed  silently  into  vacancy.  The  grave  con- 
versation had  brought  Heinrich  into  Henri's  place.  "It 
is  a  beautiful  and  enviable  faith,"  said  he. 

"Which  you  do  not  share,  because  you  are  a  man,  and 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRIDES.  215 

still  young;  but,  I  assure  you,  the  older  we  grow  the 
thinner  becomes  the  partition  our  earthly  bodies  form 
between  our  immortal  souls  and  eternity,  and  single  rays 
from  the  other  shore  often  fall  through.  This  gives  to 
us  old  people  the  religious  trust  at  which  you  young 
philosophers  smile." 

"  I  do  not  laugh  at  it,  Veronica,"  said  Heinrich;  "  but 
I  think  you  have  yet  many  years  to  enjoy  life  and  our 
happiness." 

"  Well,  it  is  as  God  wills.  I  will  gladly  live  and  gladly 
die, — both  are  welcome  to  me." 

Heinrich  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  "  Fortunate 
is  the  person  who  can  say  that,  and  contemplate  with 
equal  serenity  the  day  and  night  of  existence." 

"  Enough  of  this  grave  subject ;  tell  me,  my  son,  how 
soon  you  wish  to  take  Cornelia  away  ?  I  shall  miss  her 
so  terribly  that  I  dread  the  thought  of  losing  her,  and 
really  do  not  know  how  I  am  to  live  without  her." 

Heinrich  bit  his  lips.  "  Calm  yourself ;  unfortunately, 
I  cannot  call  her  mine  as  soon  as  I  would  gladly  do,  and 
must  even  request  you  to  keep  our  engagement  a  secret 
for  the  present.  My  position  at  the  court  is  just  now  in 
a  very  important  crisis.  This  must  first  be  decided  before 
I  can  establish  a  home  here.  There  are  a  thousand  things 
to  be  considered,  a  thousand  little  difficulties  to  remove, 
and  six  months  may  elapse  before  my  affairs  are  settled. 
So  you  will  have  Cornelia  longer  than  I  like,  for  if  it 
depended  only  upon  myself  I  would  take  her  in  my  arms 
to-morrow,  and  show  her  to  the  envious  world  as  my 
dearest  possession." 

"I  understand,  dear  Ottraar,"  said  Veronica;  "but  I 
only  wonder  that  you,  who  have  stood  so  firmly  in  your 
office,  should  suddenly  find  yourself  in  a  crisis." 

"  Unfortunately  it  is  so.  The  ministry  is  now  en- 
gaged upon  new  laws,  which,  if  unapproved,  will  lead  to 
a  change  of  ministers,  and  perhaps  I  may  also  fall  a 
victim.  This  is  an  important  time  in  my  life,  which 
claims  all  my  activity  and  attention." 

"  Thank  God  that  I  am  permitted  to  keep  my  angel  so 
long!  You  are  very  sensible,  my  son,  to  wish  to  wait 
until  after  this  epoch.  Besides,  a  marriage  made  outside 


216  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

the  limits  of  the  most  aristocratic  circles  will  not  be  very 
favorably  received  at  court,  and  it  is,  therefore,  best  to 
keep  the  matter  secret  until  your  position  has  beeu  con- 
firmed anew." 

The  conversation  was  beginning  to  be  painful  to  Hein- 
rich,  and  the  striking  of  the  great  clock  afforded  him  a 
welcome  pretext  for  rising  and  pleading  the  necessity  of 
attending  a  court  soiree.  He  bade  Veronica  farewell, 
and  begged  Cornelia  to  accompany  him  to  the  door.  The 
young  girl  was  grave  and  quiet. 

"  Do  not  grieve  about  Veronica,  my  child,"  he  said,  in 
the  antechamber;  "  it  is  the  way  of  all  old  people,  to  talk 
continually  about  dying, — she  may  live  a  long  time  still." 

"I  think  so  too,"  replied  Cornelia;  "but  I  feel  op- 
pressed. It  is  like  the  plants  whose  leaves  droop  after 
being  exposed  to  too  much  sunlight.  I  was  too  happy 
just  now, — there  must  be  a  reaction." 

"  But  what  troubles  you,  my  angel  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing  that  can  be  changed.  The  thought 
of  being  so  much  your  inferior  that  such  strict  secrecy  is 
needful  grieves  me.  To  conceal  from  the  world  the 
beautiful  emotion  that  fills  my  breast,  perhaps  even  often 
be  compelled  to  profane  it  by  a  falsehood,  is  painful;  but 
do  not  let  it  grieve  you, — I  shall  soon  conquer  this  mood." 

Heinrich  drew  her  to  his  breast,  and  stroked  her 
luxuriant  hair.  "My  own  sweet  love,  I  understand  you. 
But  consider  that  this  burdensome  constraint  is  only  im- 
posed upon  us  for  a  short  time,  and  that  it  also  has  its 
good  side.  I  can  say  no  more  than  I  wrote  in  my  letter. 
As  regards  making  the  affair  public,  you  see,  by  what 
Veronica  says,  the  necessity  of  the  precautions  I  am 
compelled  to  take.  Come,  love,  smile  upon  me  again ; 
do  not  let  me  go  with  the  knowledge  that  you  are  sorrow- 
ful." lie  took  her  hand  and  placed  it  on  his  heart.  "Do 
you  feel  that  its  every  throb  is  yours?" 

Cornelia  threw  her  arm  around  his  neck,  and  gazed 
intently  into  his  face;  but  he  closed  her  eyes  with  kisses, 
and  left  the  house.  She  went  to  the  window  and  watched 
her  lover's  tall  figure  as  he  strode  away.  No  one  could 
bear  himself  more  proudly,  no  one  could  hold  his  he;id 
more  haughtily  erect.  Now  he  met  an  acquaintance, 


THE   TWO   BETROTHED   BRTDES.  21T 

removed  his  bat  slowly  and  condescendingly,  and  con- 
tinued bis  way  without  glancing  up,  for  he  seemed  to 
have  noticed  that  the  gentleman  was  looking  after  him. 
It  wounded  Cornelia,  and  when  the  latter  raised  his  eyes 
to  the  window  she  blushed  with  a  strange  feeling  of 
shame  and  retreated.  She  would  not  go  to  Veronica; 
something  in  her  mood  demanded  solitude,  so  she  leaned 
back  on  one  of  the  ancient  carved  chairs  and  gazed 
thoughtfully  at  the  dark  oak  wainscoting  on  the  walls. 
Twilight  spread  its  shadows  over  her,  —  twilight  also 
brooded  over  her  soul,  and  she  knew  not  whether  it 
would  change  into  night  or  day.  Why  should  she  feel 
ashamed  because  that  stranger  looked  after  Ottniar  and 
then  glanced  at  her?  why  should  it  cause  her  pain  be- 
cause Ottrnar  passed  on  without  looking  up?  Secrecy 
made  this  caution  necessary.  It  required  that  he  should 
deny  her  in  the  presence  of  the  first  chance-comer,  that 
she  should  steal  a  glance  at  her  lover  like  a  thief  in  the 
night,  and  blush  if  surprised  in  the  act,  as  if  she  were  doing 
wrong.  How  painful !  how  humiliating!  But  was  this 
secrecy  really  needful  ?  Were  the  reasons  he  alleged  suffi- 
cient and  strong  enough  not  to  be  vanquished  by  the 
strength  of  a  genuine,  manly  love?  Ought  he  not  to 
sacrifice  everything  to  spare  her  such  a  humiliation? 
How  far  would  his  marriage  with  her,  with  their  mutual 
fortunes,  be  dependent  upon  acrisis  in  office  ?  What  induced 
the  ardent  lover  to  consent  to  this  patient  waiting  ?  Could 
his  private  relations  exert  a  disturbing  influence  upon  his 
position  as  a  servant  of  the  government  ?  What  made 
him  so  timid,  if  it  was  not  the  fear  of  forfeiting  his  place 
at  court  by  a  mesalliance  with  a  plebeian,  the  daughter 
of  a  republican?  But  what  would  the  delay  of  a  few 
months  avail  ? — would  not  the  marriage  be  precisely  the 
same  at  whatever  time  it  occurred?  If  be  feared  that, 
he  would  never  dare  to  wed  her.  She  fell  into  a  deep 
reverie.  Suddenly  her  eyes  flashed,  and  she  held  her 
breath  as  if  the  very  air  was  poisoned.  Suppose  he  should 
be  false  ? — suppose  the  dread  of  prejudicing  himself  should 
be  stronger  than  his  integrity  ?  She  could  not  doubt  his 
love,  for  his  ardor  had  already  made  her  tremble.  Sup- 
pose he  wished  to  pluuge  her  into  the  same  abyss  that 
K  19 


218  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

had  engulfed  so  many  others?  suppose  the  reports  con- 
cerning him  were  true,  and  he  should  prove  false,  terribly, 
fiendishly  false?  Yet  scarcely  was  the  suspicion  born  ere 
her  whole  nature  rose  against  it  in  all  its  strength.  What 
a  monster  you  are  to  have  the  thought  of  such  baseness 
arise  in  your  young  brain!  Is  your  imagination  so  corrupt 
that  the  most  sacred  thing  is  not  too  holy  to  be  thus 
sullied  ?  Her  horror  was  now  not  of  him,  but  of  herself. 
He  was  not  the  traitor,  but  she, — she  who  could  cherish  so 
disgraceful  a  doubt,  whose  love  was  not  strong  enough 
to  crush  it  in  the  bud ;  she  had  betrayed  him  in  her  own 
heart. 

She  started  up,  rushed  into  her  room,  and  lighted  a 
lamp ;  then  in  the  anguish  of  her  soul  threw  herself  on 
the  floor  before  his  picture, — the  same  one  she  had  received 
from  Fraulein  Hedwig.  Her  eyes  wandered  over  the 
sketch  and  strove  to  animate  the  mute  features  and  un- 
ravel their  mystery ;  in  vain,  the  solution  was  concealed 
in  her  own  breast,  and  everything  there  was  confused  and 
gloomy.  Thus,  tortured  by  doubts  of  him  and  of  herself, 
she  was  at  last  attracted  towards  the  pure,  faithful  heart 
of  her  foster-mother.  She  entered  the  tea-room  and  found 
Veronica  sitting  with  her  clasped  hands  resting  in  her 
lap,  absorbed  in  sorrowful  thought. 

"Are  you  come  at  last,  my  darling?  You  have  left 
your  old  Veronica  alone  a  long  time.  But  I  understand 
it.  In  this  solemn  hour  you  must  first  be  at  peace  with 
yourself.  You  happy,  fortunate  child !  " 

Cornelia  threw  herself  upon  a  stool  at  Veronica's  feet, 
and  asked,  cautiously,  for  she  did  not  wish  this  unpreju- 
diced mind  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  troubled  soul,  "  Do 
you  believe  in  Heinrich  as  firmly  as  I  do  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Veronica.  "  I  think  he  has  given 
us  sufficient  proof  that  he  is  a  man  of  honor." 

The  old  servant  brought  a  lamp  and  the  musical  urn 
into  the  room ;  Veronica  took  out  her  knitting-work,  and 
as  they  sat  so  quietly  together  with  the  sweet  melodies 
circling  round  them  with  the  rising  steam,  the  memory 
of  the  evening  of  their  first  unseen  meeting  rose  gently 
before  Cornelia's  mind  with  all  its  magic  and  blessedness. 
Her  excited  nerves  grew  calm,  her  mood  dissolved  io 


THE  TWO  BETROTHED   BRIDES.  219 

tears  She  remembered  so  many  lofty  words,  so  many 
glances  full  of  true  nobility  of  feeling.  All  those  fair 
moments  passed  before  her.  With  what  joyful  affection 
he  had  met  her  that  day  !  Can  one  who  has  any  evil 
design  be  so  frank,  so  confident?  Oh,  if  he  should  sus- 
pect how  she  had  doubted  him  ! 

"  Do  you  think  it  necessary  to  keep  our  love  a  secret  ?" 
she  asked,  at  last. 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  child,"  said  Veronica,  calmly. 

"To  me  it  is  only  very  painful,"  murmured  Cornelia. 

"That  may  be;  but  it  is  something  that  happens  a 
thousand  times.  You  must  be  reasonable.  We  cannot 
know  that  he  is  not  in  the  act  of  obtaining  a  higher  posi- 
tion, and  in  that  case  his  engagement  with  you  would  be 
an  obstacle  in  his  way.  Therefore  he  must  deny  it  until 
the  expected  promotion  is  secured ;  then  only  he  can 
venture  to  defy  all  the  prejudices  of  his  circle  and  take 
you  for  his  wife." 

"  I  do  not  see  what  his  private  relations  should  have 
to  do  with  it." 

"  Why,  Cornelia,  you  speak  as  if  you  knew  nothing  of 
the  world !  Are  you  not  yet  aware  how  much  personal 
matters  are  taken  into  consideration  in  these  circles  ? 
Besides,  we  cannot  conceal  from  ourselves  that  you  bear 
a  name  with  which  the  most  unfortunate  political  associ- 
ations are  connected.  Perhaps  he  also  hopes  that  in  the 
course  of  time  our  noble  princess  may  exert  a  softening 
influence  upon  our  strict  aristocracy,  and  wishes  to  await 
this  favorable  opportunity.  There  are  a  thousand  things 
to  be  considered,  and  it  is  very  delicate  in  him  to  conceal 
them  from  us.  You  are  a  young,  enthusiastic  hot-head, 
and  always  want  to  fight  your  way  through  to  your  ideal ; 
he  a  steady,  experienced  man  who  takes  things  as  they 
are,  and  yields  to  them  with  prudent  self-control.  I 
would  far  rather  trust  you  to  such  a  character  than  a 
fanatical  reformer,  like  your  unhappy  father." 

Cornelia  listened  with  delight  to  this  argument  in  favor 
of  what  she  herself  most  ardently  desired.  Veronica  was 
so  calm,  so  confident,  and  she  was  not  blinded  by  love ; 
should  not  this  restore  all  the  peace  of  confidence  ?  Oh, 
if  her  deeply  injured  lover  were  only  here,  that  she  might 


220  A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

implore  his  pardon  for  the  wrong  she  had  done  him  ! 
How  she  would  embrace  him  if  he  came  to-morrow  !  how 
happy  she  would  be  with  him ! 

Veronica's  voice  roused  her  from  these  thoughts  and 
dreams.  "  Let  us  take  tea,  Cornelia;  I  am  very  tired  and 
would  like  to  get  up  early  to-morrow  morning  to  go  to 
church.  I  long  to  raise  my  heart  to  God." 

Cornelia  silently  obeyed.  When  tea  was  over  Yeronica 
went  to  bed,  and  Cornelia,  who  had  helped  her  undress, 
knelt  before  her.  "  I  thank  you,  dear  Veronica,  for  having 
been  so  kind  to  me  and  Heinrich ;  I  thank  you  also,  at 
this  turning-point  of  my  life,  for  all  the  love  with  which 
you  have  treated  me  as  a  daughter,  and  made  me  a  good 
and  happy  creature.  I  can  never  repay  you  for  it,  but 
your  clear  eyes  look  into  my  heart  and  see  what  no  words 
can  express."  Overpowered  by  her  emotion,  she  pressed 
Veronica's  hand  to  her  lips. 

"  Oh,  my  child  !  my  dear,  dear  child !  God  knows  how 
fully,  how  richly,  this  hour  repays  me  for  all  I  have  done ! 
What  better  things  can  one  purchase  than  a  hand  to  close 
one's  eyes,  and  a  warm  tear  to  fall  upon  one's  grave  ? 
This  is  a  happiness  which  comprehends  the  joys  of  a  whole 
life, — and  for  this  I  thank  you.  Good-night,  my  child." 

Cornelia  embraced  her  and  went  to  her  own  room  with 
tearful  eyes..  As  she  reached  it  she  heard  Veronica  call, 
and  went  back.  The  latter  held  out  her  arms.  "  Let 
me  press  you  to  my  heart  once  more.  God  bless  you, 
joy  of  my  old  age !  Good-night.  Wake  me  to-morrow." 

Cornelia  remained  awake  for  a  long  time.  Veronica's 
manner  had  roused  a  feeling  of  subdued  melancholy. 
Besides,  the  wonderful  day  must  be  lived  over  anew,  its 
discords  harmonized,  its  joys  and  sorrows  interwoven 
with  her  inner  nature,  ere  dreams  could  be  permitted  to 
lead  her  into  another  kingdom. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when,  after  a  short  slumber,  she 
rose  and  went  to  wake  Veronica. 

The  little  dusky  sleeping-room  was  cosy  and  silent. 
Single  shafts  of  sunlight  stole  through  the  closely-drawn 
green  curtains  and  flickered  over  the  hangings  of  Ve- 
ronica's bed.  No  sound  of  breathing,  no  motion,  disturbed 
the  stillness  of  this  sanctuary  of  slumber.  Cornelia  softly 


INSNARED.  221 

entered  and  stood  for  a  long  time  before  the  bed  ;  she  was 
loth  to  disturb  the  peaceful  silence  in  which  Veronica 
reposed.  But  she  had  requested  it,  and  it  must  be  done. 
She  drew  the  curtains  slowly  aside.  There  she  lay,  ap- 
parently lost  in  pleasant  dreams,  but — was  it  the  green 
light? — pallid  as  a  corpse!  Cornelia  took  her  hand.  Oh, 
God,  how  chill !  "  Veronica,  dear  Veronica,  wake  !"  In 
vain ;  in  her  slumber  she  had  passed  into  another  life. 
The  pale  face  seemed  in  death  to  wear  a  smile,  to  greet 
the  loved  one  for  whom  she  had  always  lived  and  so 
confidently  expected  to  meet  again.  Her  death  was  as 
peaceful  as  her  .life. 

"  Wake  me  to-morrow,"  were  her  last  words.  "  Oh, 
if  I  could  only  do  so!"  sobbed  Cornelia,  sinking  upon  her 
knees  as  if  utterly  crushed. 


XVII. 

INSNARED. 

ANTON  was  fastening  a  new  order  upon  Ottmar's  court 
dress,  when  the  latter  violently  pulled  his  bell. 

"  It's  unbearable  !"  grumbled  the  old  servant  as  he  took 
the  last  stitch  and  hurried  in  with  the  uniform. 

Heinrich  was  striding  impatiently  up  and  down  the 
room.  "Are  you  ready  at  last?  Give  it  to  me;  make 
haste,  and  let  me  get  off.  I  have  no  time  to  lose." 

The  dressing  was  quickly  finished.  "  The  new  star  is 
magnificent,"  said  Anton. 

Heinrich  looked  at  his  image  in  the  mirror  with  the 
satisfaction  of  a  man  who  knows  he  is  handsome,  and 
reckons  his  beauty  among  his  own  merits,  as  if  he  had 
compelled  nature  to  give  him  the  form  he  desired. 

"  I  must  go  to  Cornelia  after  dinner  and  show  myself 
to  her.  She  understands  and  values  my  beauty  better 
than  any  one  else,"  he  thought,  pushing  the  order  straight. 
"  Besides,  it  will  do  no  harm  to  let  her  see  some  of  my 
importance  as  a  courtier ;  old  Veronica  takes  the  matter 

19* 


222  ^    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

too  easily.  It  is  not  I,  but  she,  who  lulls  the  dear  crea- 
ture into  dreams  for  which  I  am  not  responsible.  It  is 
not  I  who  deceive  her,  but  Veronica,  when  she  assumes 
as  a  matter  of  course  assurances  I  never  gave :  and  yet 
I  cannot,  by  a  premature  contradiction,  destroy  my  whole 
happiness.  I  would  far  rather  resolve  to  verify  them, 
if  there  could  be  no  other  arrangement."  A  ray  of  sun- 
light fell  upon  the  diamonds  in  his  order  and  made  them 
glitter.  "  Do  you  wish  to  warn  me,  you  star  of  honor, 
that  you  sparkle  so?  No,  I  will  not  forget  you.  Let 
others  yearn  for  the  stars  of  yon  unattainable  distance ; 
my  earthly  wishes  depend  upon  you,  that  you  may  not 
pale  before  the  sun,  but  with  your  rays  make  your  chosen 
one  shine  forth  from  the  darkness  of  obscurity,  and  dis- 
tinguish him  from  the  masses.  With  you  on  my  heart, 
and  Cornelia's  love  within  it,  what  do  I  need  more?" 

A.  servant  announced  that  the  carriage  was  waiting. 

Heinrich  took  his  gold-embroidered  hat,  and  smiling, 
threw  himself  upon  the  soft  cushions.  The  beautiful 
white  horses  tossed  their  heads,  and  dashed  away  through 
sunlit  avenues  and  crowds  of  gayly-dressed  foot-passengers. 

The  dinner,  the  first  which  had  been  given  since  the 
marriage,  was  magnificent.  The  court  displayed  its 
greatest  splendor.  Ottilie  herself  was  one  of  the  most 
stately  personages  who  ever  graced  a  throne.  Although 
no  smile  rested  upon  her  lips,  she  did  the  honors  in  a 
most  winning  manner,  and  was  gracious  even  to  Hein- 
rich, although  no  more  so  than  to  all  others.  The  prince, 
however,  treated  him  with  marked  distinction,  and  once 
whispered,  casting  a  well-pleased  glance  at  Ottilie,  "You 
were  right;  she  is  a  real  princess."  The  princes,  princesses, 
and  courtiers  who  were  present  followed  their  master's 
example  and  loaded  Ottmar  with  civilities;  he  had  never 
been  so  attractive  or  so  much  admired.  He  stood  at  the 
zenith  of  his  favor  at  court ;  and  when,  after  the  dinner 
was  over,  he  drove  to  Cornelia,  he  scarcely  saw  that  it 
was  already  du*k,  so  brightly  did  the  lights,  the  white 
necks,  the  sparkling  glances,  the  diamonds,  and  the  gold- 
embroidered  uniforms  still  gleam  before  his  eyes ;  glitter- 
ing silken  robes  rustled  around  him  ;  smiling  faces  looked 
forth  longingly  from  behind  costly  bouquets.  The  ma- 


INSNARED.  223 

terial  comfort  of  the  moment  was  too  great  not  to  rouse 
the  other  half  of  his  nature.  Henri  alighted  when  the 
carriage  stopped.  He  pulled  the  bell,  and  the  door  of  the 
silent  house  slowly  opened.  The  staircase  was  dark. 
The  black  form  of  a  servant  glided  by  and  ushered  him 
into  the  anteroom.  The  salon  stood  open  ;  he  entered.  It, 
too,  was  dark  and  empty;  everything  was  in  disorder: 
the  furniture  was  pushed  back,  and  there  were  no  roses 
blooming  on  the  flower-stand.  Henri  felt  strangely  op- 
pressed. The  gloomy  silence  ill  suited  his  mood.  A 
glimmer  of  light  and  a  dull  murmur  of  voices  penetrated 
through  a  door  which  was  partly  ajar.  He  opened  it, 
and  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot.  Several  women  were 
engaged  in  dressing  a  corpse.  Henri  pressed  his  hand 
to  his  brow  ;  was  he  awake,  or  did  some  dream  torture 
him  with  its  sudden  changes,  in  order  to  show  him  in  a 
single  hour  the  splendor  of  the  world  and  the  end  of  all 
lives  ?  Just  at  that  moment  Cornelia,  who  had  been 
completely  absorbed  in  her  mournful  occupation,  suddenly 
perceived  him,  came  forward  in  her  mourning  robes,  look- 
ing very  pale  and  languid,  and  drew  him  aside. 

"  My  dear  Cornelia,"  said  Henri,  kissing  her  tearful 
eyes,  "  what  has  happened  since  yesterday  ?  I  can 
scarcely  trust  my  senses.  What  a  contrast !" 

"Ah,  Heinrich  !  thank  God,  you  have  come  at  last  I 
Ever  since  early  this  morning  I  have  borne  this  terrible 
sorrow  alone,  longing  in  vain  for  your  warm  heart.  Alas, 
how  heavily  such  an  unexpected  blow  falls  !" 

"  My  poor,  sweet  love,  you  are  trembling  as  if  in  an 
ague-fit !  Who  would  have  thought  of  this  ?  Kind  Veronica 
dead  I" 

She  nestled  timidly  in  his  arras.  "  Heinrich,  my  heart 
aches  terribly,  and  besides  I  feel  this  horror  of  death. 
You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  dress  a  cold  body  which 
is  no  longer  the  dear  one  it  personates." 

"  Then  leave  the  others  to  finish  the  task,  and  stay 
with  me,  my  angel." 

"  We  have  finished  it,  and  they  want  to  bring  her  in  here. 
You  must  go  into  the  tea-room,  or  they  will  see  you." 

"  Willingly.  But  now  leave  everything  to  these  women 
and  come  with  me.  You  are  completely  worn  out." 


224  -A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"Yes,  I  will  stay  with  you.  I  can  no  longer  be  a  wit- 
ness," said  Cornelia;  then  gave  the  necessary  orders  to 
the  servants,  and  went  into  the  tea-room  with  Henri. 
They  had  scarcely  entered  it  when  they  heard  pieces  of 
furniture  pushed  aside,  and  the  creaking  of  the  coffin, 
which,  when  once  heard,  is  never  forgotten.  Cornelia 
trembled  violently,  sank  down  beside  Henri,  and  burst- 
ing into  tears,  hid  her  face  upon  his  breast  until  the  noise 
was  over.  Then  she  looked  up.  "  You  think  me  very 
weak,  do  you  not?  I  have  kept  up  all  day,  but  now  my 
strength  is  exhausted  ;  terror  has  overpowered  me." 

Henri  gently  raised  her  and  drew  her  on  his  knee. 
She  made  no  resistance,  but  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck ;  her  head  sank  wearily  upon  his  shoulder,  and  joy 
and  sorrow,  deadly  horror  and  sweet  content,  began  to 
mingle  strangely. 

"  Oh,  do  not  give  way !"  said  Henri  to  himself,  while 
his  throbbing  heart  seemed  ready  to  burst.  He  cradled 
her  in  his  arms  as  if  she  had  been  a  child,  and  breathed 
upon  her  cold  hands. 

Gradually  her  tears  ceased,  and  warmth  returned  to 
her  cheeks  and  hands.  Never  is  a  woman  more  grateful 
or  more  susceptible  to  love  than  when  a  great  sorrow 
has  broken  her  strength,  and  she  gropes  helplessly  for 
some  support.  At  this  moment  Cornelia  could  have 
worshiped  her  lover  as  some  superior  being ;  all  sus- 
picion was  forgotten,  she  clung  to  him  as  if  he  were  some 
consoling  angel. 

"  Cornelia,  are  you  happy  now  that  you  are  clasped  to 
my  heart  ?"  whispered  Henri. 

"  Oh,  infinitely  happy  !"  she  murmured.  "What  should 
I  be  without  you,  my  life  ?  Now  I  am  cast  wholly  upon 
you,  you  will  never  forsake  your  orphaned  love  ?" 

Henri  strained  her  to  his  breast  with  almost  suffocat- 
ing violence,  and  exclaimed  from  his  inmost  heart,  with 
the  utmost  sincerity,  "If  I  ever  forsake  you,  accursed 
be  the  hour  when  I  was  born,  the  couch  on  which  I  rest, 
the  air  I  breathe,  the  lips  with  which  I  kiss !  I  raise  my 
hand  and  call  upon  all  the  powers  of  evil  to  witness 
against  me  if  I  break  my  oath." 


INSNARED.  225 

Cornelia  laid  her  finger  on  his  lips.  "  Do  not  be  so 
violent;  that  is  no  oath,  but  a  curse." 

"Is  it  not  equally  binding?" 

"Certainly;  but  it  makes  me  anxious  :  as  if  there  would 
be  no  blessing  upon  it ;  as  if  you  felt  the  possibility  of 
becoming  faithless,  and  your  better  self  was  threatening 
you  with  punishment." 

"  You  angel !  Look  me  in  the  eyes;  do  you  no  longer 
believe  in  your  Heinrich,  and  yet  love  him  still  ?" 

"Ah,  Heinrich,  forgive  my  distrust !  I  feared  to  lose 
you,  because  you  are  the  dearest  thing  in  the  world  to 
me.  I  cannot  think  clearly  to-day,  I  am  so  bewildered 
and  worn  out  by  grief.  How  contemptible  I  must  seem 
to  you  1" 

"  If  you  knew  how  lovely  you  are  in  your  weakness ! 
You  are  not  contemptible,  you  are  only  a  true,  tender 
woman,  and  therein  lies  your  charm.  Do  you  suppose 
firm  muscles,  large  bones,  and  nerves  of  steel  are  attrac- 
tive to  men  ?  It  is  your  very  helplessness  that  rouses 
our  magnanimity;  your  delicacy  demands  our  indulgence. 
To  support  a  beautiful,  trembling  woman  on  his  strong 
arm,  and  defend  her  from  real  or  fancied  terrors,  is  a 
sweet  joy  to  a  man, — sweeter  than  admiration  of  an  ab- 
normal strength,  which  woman  attains  only  at  the  cost 
of  her  charms." 

Cornelia  listened  to  his  words  with  increasing  delight. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  he  continued,  "  that  you  were  ever 
dearer  to  me  than  at  this  hour,  when  I  am  permitted  to 
cradle  your  weary  form  upon  my  knees  and  fondly  caress 
you?  when  your  strong  mind  succumbs  to  the  laws  of 
womanly  nature  and  you  fly  to  me  in  your  horror  of 
death  ?  You  have  trusted  yourself  to  me  more  than 
ever  before,  and  in  your  sorrow  are  sacred.  You  have 
nestled  confidingly  to  this  heart,  and  it  shall  never  de- 
ceive you." 

"Heinrich!  Heinrich!  What  a  magic  you  exert!  You 
banish  all  griefs  with  a  single  glance  of  love,  and  your 
words  fill  my  soul  with  peace.  Ah,  it  is  beautiful  to 
love  in  happiness  !  But  we  only  know  what  we  are  to 
each  other  when  we  need  each  other.  No  language  can 
express  what  you  have  been  to  me  in  this  hour.  A  dark, 
K* 


226  •<*    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

starry  sky  arches  over  me  in  your  eyes  and  invites  me  to 
repose;  it  extends  over  my  whole  soul  and  seems  as  if 
it  enthroned  the  God  to  whom  I  bewail  my  sorrows,  in 
whom  I  trust,  to  whom  I  shall  send  up  my  nightly 
prayer,  and  then  rest — sleep!"  She  closed  her  eyes  as 
if  exhausted,  and  laid  her  head  upon  his  breast. 

Henri  clasped  her  closely  in  his  arms.  "  Oh,  bear  this 
happiness !  bear  it  firmly !"  he  murmured  to  himself. 

She  sat  upright  again.  "I  cannot  lean  upon  you;  your 
hard  orders  hurt  me." 
*"  Then  rest  on  the  other  side,"  he  pleaded. 

She  pushed  her  hair  back  from  her  brow,  looked  sadly 
at  the  flashing  decorations,  and  rose.  "  It  is  late,  Hein- 
rich  ;  you  must  leave  me  now." 

Henri  cursed  the  diamond  stars  with  sincere  vexation. 
What  had  they  availed  him  ?  They  had  destroyed  the 
happiest  moment  of  his  life  ;  and  the  magic  night  of  love, 
with  all  its  sweet  dreams  and  illusions,  which  Cornelia's 
weary  soul  had  spread  around  herself  and  him,  had  melted 
in  their  rays. 

He  rose  and  extended  his  hands  imploringly  to  Cor- 
nelia. "  My  darling,  you  shall  never  again  be  parted 
from  the  place  where  you  belong.  I  promise  you.  I  shall 
never  wear  them  in  your  presence." 

"  Ah,  yes,  put  them  away ;  they  have  hurt  my  cheek, 
but  wounded  my  heart  still  more." 

"  Cornelia,  are  you  angry  with  me  ?" 

"I  angry  with  you?  Ah,  Heinrich,  I  love  you  only 
too  well  1  Tell  me,  where  is  this  to  end  ?  If  I  am  away 
from  your  side  a  moment,  I  feel  as  if  the  cold  breath  of 
the  grave  floated  over  me,  and  a  throb  of  pain  thrills  my 
frame  as  if  I  had  torn  away  a  part  of  my  own  nature. 
Heinrich, — beloved,  terrible  Heinrich, — where  is  this  to 
end?" 

"In  a  happy,  ardent  love,"  cried  Henri,  radiant  with 
joy.  "  You  shall  not  miss  me  often.  I  will  spend  every 
leisure  hour  with  you.  But  say,  my  angel,  shall  you 
still  be  accessible  to  me?  Does  Veronica's  death  make 
no  change  in  your  situation?" 

"  Oh,  I  had  entirely  forgotten  that.  Old  Herr  Lin- 
derer  is  my  guardian,  and  the  executor  of  Veronica's 


IN  SNA  RED  227 

will.  He  proposed  that  I  should  reside  in  his  family  for 
the  future." 

"What!  would  you  do  that?"  cried  Henri. 

"It  would  be  very  paiuful  to  me,  and  I  might  remain, 
for  through  Veronica's  generosity  the  house  and  every- 
thing she  possessed  is  mine ;  but  a  young  girl  ought  not 
to  live  so  entirely  alone,  without  protection." 

"And  have  you  not  a  moral  protection  in  yourself, 
and  a  personal  one  in  your  servants  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  That  I  cannot  visit  you  when  you  are  living  with 
Herr  Linderer  is  a  matter  of  course.  Our  intercourse 
must  be  broken  off,  for  it  cannot  exist  under  the  watchful 
eyes  of  that  family  ;  so  you  have  but  one  choice,  my 
darling, — either  to  remain  here  and  be  the  happiest  of 
betrothed  brides,  or  dispense  with  my  society  for  the 
sake  of  a  world  that  will  not  thank  you  for  the  sacrifice." 

Cornelia  clung  closely  to  him.  "  Do  without  you  ? 
Oh,  Heinrich,  how  could  I?" 

"  Well,  promise  me  you  will  take  courage  and  refuse 
Linderer's  proposal ;  then,  Cornelia,  I  shall  first  believe 
in  the  strength  of  your  love." 

"  But  the  world, — how  would  it  judge  of  such  a  plan  ?" 

"  Cornelia,  I  should  have  thought  you  philosopher 
enough  to  despise  the  world  and  its  judgments." 

"  Perhaps, — but  custom " 

"  You  may  offend  against  custom,  but  not  morality. 
Our  love  bears  the  highest  consecration  in  itself.  If  you 
are  thoroughly  pervaded  with  its  influence,  you  may 
trust  yourself  to  it  without  fear.  But  what  am  I  talking 
about  ?  Ask  your  own  heart  whether  you  will  make  me 
of  less  importance  than  consideration  for  the  opinion  of 
the  world, — whether  you  can  inflict  this  sorrow  upon 
yourself  and  your  Heinrich." 

"And  do  you  not  take  the  same  precautions,  Heinrich  ? 
Do  you  not  deny  me  before  society  for  the  sake  of  '  its 
despicable  prejudices'?" 

Henri  was  embarrassed  for  a  moment ;  then  he  said, 
calmly,  "  If  I  now  make  confessions  to  the  influential 
circles  which  have  the  decision  of  my  fate,  it  will  be 
done  while  I  am  not  compelled  to  be  deprived  of  you. 


228  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

If  I  had  only  the  choice  of  leaving  you  or  giving  up  my 
plans,  I  should  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  do  the  latter. 
If  you  go  to  Herr  Linderer's,  you  will  place  me  in  this 
alternative.  I  must  either  give  you  up  for  a  long  time, 
or  prematurely  acknowledge  our  relations  and  destroy 
my  hopes  for  the  future.  Speak,  my  angel  I  If  you  de- 
mand the  latter,  I  shall  be  proud  to  prove  that  I  love  you 
better  than  you  do  me,  and  can  make  greater  sacrifices." 

"  No,  no,  my  dearest !  You  shall  not  think  me  so 
selfish  ;  I  should  be  ashamed  to  accept  such  an  one  from 
you.  I  will  stay  in  this  house  and  refuse  Herr  Linderer's 
offer.  People  may  say  what  they  please ;  better  they 
should  suspect  me  than  that  you  should  doubt  my  love." 

"  Those  words  were  worthy  of  you,  Cornelia !"  cried 
Henri.  "  What  gratitude  can  reward  you  as  you  de- 
serve ?" 

Cornelia  gazed  into  his  eyes  long  and  earnestly. 
"  Justify  my  confidence,  Heinrich,  and  you  will  give  me 
the  highest,  the  only  reward  I  ask.  And  now  farewell 
for  to-day." 

"Must  I  leave  you  ?     Ah,  one  moment  more!" 

Cornelia  shook  her  head  sadly.  "  No,  it  cannot  be  ;  it 
is  late,  and  I  must  rest ;  but  you  can  go  through  the 
room  with  me, — will  you  ?" 

"Yes,  my  angel,  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  threshold 
of  your  room,  and  then  turn  away  from  the  door  of 
heaven  like  a  condemned  spirit." 

"  Come,"  said  Cornelia ;  and  slowly  entered  the  room 
leaning  on  his  arm. 

There  lay  the  corpse  in  the  coffin,  a  wreath  of  blos- 
soming myrtle  on  the  head,  and"  Cornelia's  red  roses  on 
the  heart.  Her  tears  flowed  again,  her  grief  burst  forth 
anew,  as  she  looked  down  on  the  silent,  pale,  old  bride. 

"Oh,  faithful  guardian  of  my  childhood  !"  She  sobbed, 
"  will  you  leave  your  Cornelia  alone  ?  Open  your  lips 
once  more  and  tell  me,  oh  !  tell  me,  whether  I  am  doing 
right  in  what  I  have  just  promised  my  beloved  one!  Ah, 
speak  to  me  once,  only  once  more,  true,  pure  heart,  which 
has  been  my  refuge  in  joy  and  sorrow !" 

"Have  you  forgotten  that  I  am  by  your  side,  Cornelia?" 
said  Henri,  reproachfully. 


INSNARED.  229 

She  turned  from  the  body,  pressed  a  fervent  kiss  upon 
his  lips,  and  allowed  him  to  lead  her  through  the  apart- 
ment to  her  own  room.  Here  she  paused.  "Thanks, 
dearest  Heinrich  !  farewell !" 

"Must  I  leave  you  alone  with  your  tears?" 

"Oh,  they  would  gush  forth  again  whenever  you 
went,  no  matter  how  long  you  might  remain  !" 

"  Do  you  not  fear  your  own  thoughts  while  you  are  in 
this  excited  mood  ?" 

"Not  in  this  cheerful  chamber.  It  is  protected  by  ajl 
the  thousand  dreams  of  love  I  have  had  here.  There  is 
your  picture;  wher"e  that  is  the  icy  breath  of  death 
cannot  enter.  Farewell  I" 

"Ah,  if  I  might  only  sleep  on  the  threshold  before 
your  door,  I  would  never  seek  soft  pillows  I"  Again  he 
clasped  her  in  his  arms ;  then,  with  an  effort,  tore  him- 
self away.  "Good-night!" 

"Good-night,  Heinrich!"  she  cried  in  a  tone  which 
revealed  all  the  wealth  of  ardent  feeling  she  had  repressed 
with  so  much  difficulty;  then  disappeared  in  her  own 
room  and  locked  the  door. 

Henri  averted  his  face  as  he  passed  the  corpse.  He 
had  once  more  received  a  solemn  lesson,  and  it  was  only 
when  his  agitated  feelings  began  to  grow  calm  that  he 
was  able  to  justly  comprehend  the  importance  of  the  last 
hour. 

He  returned  home  absorbed  in  thought,  and  the  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  cast  aside  the  star-bedecked  uniform. 
Then  he  paced  up  and  down  his  room,  while  the  most 
conflicting  thoughts  whirled  through  his  brain.  Corne- 
lia's sacrifice  had  shamed  him  deeply.  Was  he  to  misuse 
it,  and  abuse  her  confidence  ?  Must  he  not  reward  her 
better  ? 

Again  he  paced  up  and  down  the  room. 

But  he  would  requite  her  with  a  thousand  joys.  Free 
love  was  spared  the  heavy  cares  of  the  married  state. 
He  could  easily  teach  her  to  despise  the  social  "preju- 
dices of  morality,"  and  as  soon  as  she  disregarded  them, 
of  what  would  she  be  deprived  if  their  relations  lacked 
the  legal  stamp?  He  would  never  desert  her, — he  had 
sworn  it ;  so  their  union  would  contain  the  fundamental 

20 


230  -A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

principle  of  marriage.  He  would  never  wed  another. 
What  did  she  want  more?  He  believed  her  unconven- 
tional enough  to  regard  the  claims  of  custom  lightly. 
She  had  already  done  so  to  a  certain  extent  by  the 
promise  she  had  given  that  day.  The  first — most  diffi- 
cult— step  was  taken.  But  if  he  misjudged  her,  if  his 
plan  failed,  and  she  could  not  endure  the  disgrace.  If  he 
should  lose  her!  He  was  obliged  to  confess  that  he 
could  no  longer  live  without  her.  Did  she  not  outweigh 
bis  triumphs  and  his  prospects  at  the  court?  But  suppose 
the  new  law  did  not  pass  ?  He  could  not  fall  a  victim  to 
it,  as  he  had  made  Veronica  suppose,  for  he  was  one  of 
its  opponents.  To  whom  could  the  prince  turn,  in  form- 
ing a  new  ministry,  except  himself?  Suppose,  by  his 
marriage  with  Cornelia,  he  should  lose  the  prince's  favor, 
and  with  it  the  portfolio  ?  This  turned  the  scale.  This 
period  must  be  awaited. 

The  magnanimity  of  love !  How  many  an  innocent, 
womanly  heart  has  already  been  led  astray  by  this  will- 
o'-the-wisp  of  tender  sophistry !  Deeds  like  Cornelia's 
sacrifice  of  a  public  betrothal,  and  her  promise  to  live 
alone,  veil  themselves  beneath  a  semblance  of  such  no- 
bility that  an  unsuspecting  nature  does  not  hesitate  to 
perform  them,  believing  itself  to  be  yielding  to  an  impulse 
*of  generosity,  and  not  suspecting  that  it  is  merely  follow- 
ing the  guidance  of  its  own  passion.  Cornelia  was  too 
innocent  and  inexperienced  to  penetrate  Henri's  unprin- 
cipled tactics.  If  doubts  again  arose  they  could  not  give 
sufficient  proofs  of  their  justice,  and  were  always  crushed 
as  "  idle  fancies"  by  the  power  of  her  love. 

Veronica's  funeral  took  place,  and  it  touched  Cornelia 
deeply  that  Heinrich  was  present ;  she  considered  it  a 
fresh  proof  of  his  uprightness. 

Old  Archivrath  Linderer  heard  with  actual  tears  her 
refusal  to  become  one  of  his  family.  He  ventured  a  few 
timid  remonstrances,  but  was  far  too  courteous  to  use  his 
right  as  guardian  and  compel  her  to  yield  to  his  views. 
He  could  not  force  himself  to  be  uncivil  to  any  one,  and 
according  to  his  ideas  he  would  have  been  so  had  he 
attempted  to  impose  any  restraint  upon  Cornelia.  There- 
fore, when  he  saw  that  his  timidly  uttered,  kindly  meant 


INSNARED.  231 

representations  were  wholly  disregarded,  he  could  only 
wipe  the  sweat  of  anxiety  from  his  brow  and  take  leave 
of  her  with  a  deeply  saddened  heart.  Even  the  sulky 
Servant  took  his  leave,  to  live  upon  the  legacy  Veronica 
had  left  him,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  Cornelia  intended 
to  keQp  up  an  independent  establishment.  * 

Several  weeks  now  quietly  elapsed  in  a  gentle  alterna- 
tion of  joy  and  sorrow,  until  the  image  of  the  beloved 
dead  receded  into  the  background  more  and  more,  and 
love  took  exclusive  possession  of  Cornelia's  whole  exist- 
ence. At  first  she  did  not  notice  that  the  number  of  her 
acquaintances  lessened;  and  when  she  at  last  became 
aware  of  it,  Henri's  influence  had  already  taught  her  to 
disregard  it.  She  despised  the  pitiful  souls  which  only 
judged  from  appearances,  and  clung  to  the  few  faithful 
friends  that  remained  to  her.  But  it  was  unavoidable 
that  one  or  another  of  them  should  meet  Ottmar  during 
his  frequent  visits.  It  would  not  do, — people  must  not 
always  find  him  with  her;  so,  if  he  was  present,  other 
visitors  were  refused.  When  this  happened  too  fre- 
quently, and  Cornelia  perceived  that  it  must  Iea4  to  mis- 
understandings with  her  best  friends,  she  at  last  con- 
sented that  Ottmar  should  spend  the  evening  hours  with 
her.  Thus  the  meetings  with  others  were  prevented  ; 
but  as  his  presence  had  been  noticed,  his  absence  was 
now  the  cause  of  comment.  Had  their  interviews  ceased, 
or  been  deferred  until  another  hour  ?  This  must  be  as- 
certained. A  few  zealous  friends  watched  her,  and  saw 
him  come  and  go.  They  sorrowfully  confided  this  in- 
credible thing  to  each  other  under  the  seal  of  silence, 
warned  her,  half  openly  and  half  by  hints,  that  her  fair  fame 
was  endangered,  and  mourned  for  her  as  one  dead.  Yet 
she  still  stood  erect  and  stainless,  her  girlish  brow  loftily 
upraised  against  the  humiliations  she  endured,  and  pitied 
the  world  for  being  too  corrupt  to  believe  in  the  purity 
of  anything ;  her  last  consolation  was  her  good  conscience. 
She  trusted  to  herself  and  to  her  lover,  and  awaited  the 
day  which  would  solve  the  mystery  before  the  eyes  of 
men  and  restore  her  their  lost  esteem.  This  gave  her 
strength  to  endure  the  "  trial." 

Ottmar  did  everything  in  his  power  to  employ  her 


232  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

time  and  occupy  her  thoughts.  He  was  well  aware  that 
he  could  only  win  this  noble  woman  gradually,  and 
by  noble  means.  He  read  with  her,  gave  her  the  most 
beautiful  classical  works,  explained  the  thoughts  of  the 
ancient  and  modern  philosophers,  and  perused  with  her 
the  best  of  modern  literature.  Thus  she  learned  to 
associate  with  him  the  impressions  made  by  the  noblest 
productions  of  the  intellect,  from  which  he  obtained  a 
certain  halo  that  made  him  worthy  of  worship  in  her 
eyes.  He  understood  all  these  grand  works,  and  made 
them  comprehensible  to  her, — it  seemed  as  great  a  deed 
as  if  he  had  created  them  himself.  She  looked  up  to 
him  as  a  superior  being,  and  at  last  could  really  neither 
think,  feel,  nor  live  without  him.  He,  in  his  turn, 
was  delighted  with  her  susceptibility  and  active  mind, 
and  became  accustomed  to  impart  everything  good  and 
beautiful  which  came  in  his  way  to  Cornelia,  and  enjoy 
it  doubly  with  her.  Thus  he  unconsciously  entangled 
himself  in  the  net  he  was  weaving  for  the  young  girl ; 
she  became  as  great  a  necessity  to  him  as  he  to  her, 
and  he  had  never  been  so  happy  before.  Yet  this  life 
was  not  wholly  without  discord.  His  twofold  nature 
often  wounded  Cornelia;  be  was  either  passionately  ex- 
cited, or  brilliant  and  cold.  She  could  not  be  at  ease;  one 
she  was  forced  to  repel,  the  other  repelled  her.  Both 
prevented  the  calm  happiness  of  loving  intercourse  which 
woman's  platonic  nature  so  fully  understands  and  needs. 
She  often  took  for  want  of  love  what  was  merely  lack 
of  sensuous  feeling,  and  the  glowing  ardor  which  alter- 
nated with  the  coldness  could  not  supply  the  place  of  the 
uniform  warmth  of  deep  affection.  Ottmar  at  last  Under- 
stood what  she  lacked.  He  perceived  that  there  was  a 
middle  path,  that  he  must  be  at  once  less  cold  and  less 
warm,  to  obtain  entire  control  over  her.  During  the  time 
that  bis  intellect  was  in  the  ascendant,  he  endeavored  to 
assume  a  more  affectionate  tone,  and  the  oftener  this 
happened  the  better  it  pleased  Heinrich  to  press  his  lips 
to  the  brow  which  contained  the  thoughts  that  delighted 
him,  and  stroke  the  hair  that  veiled  it,  while  it  afforded 
him  still  higher  enjoyment  to  study  in  her  classic  form 
and  features  the  idea  of  the  beautiful.  She  became  a 


INStfARED.  233 

living  work  of  art  to  him,  and  as  art  is  the  first  mediator 
between  mind  and  matter,  he  began  to  rejoice  in  her 
physical  charms  from  au  artistic  stand-point.  Henri,  on 
the  contrary,  ennobled  the  expression  of  his  l.ove  and 
appropriated  more  and  more  of  the  impulses  of  Cornelia's 
soul.  Thus  intellect  began  to  grow  warmer,  sensuality 
to  be  spiritualized.  The  separation  between  them  had 
been  lessened  by  struggling  for  a  common  object ;  if  his 
moral  consciousness  had  ripened  in  the  same  proportion 
as  the  two  extremes  approached  a  normal  union,  he  would 
have  adopted  a  different  course  of  action.  But  the  indi- 
vidual conflict  was  not  yet  entirely  settled,  and  the  moral 
one  could  not  be  decided.  His  mistakes  and  transgressions 
had  proceeded  solely  from  the  gulf  in  his  nature ;  only 
when  the  parts  were  united  in  one  harmonious  whole 
could  they  be  expelled,  for  right  and  truth  can  only  thrive 
in  a  soul  at  peace  with  itself. 

Months  elapsed,  and  the  political  event  which  was  to 
decide  his  own  fate  and  Cornelia's  drew  near.  Ottmar 
awaited  it  with  eager  suspense.  He  longed  to  have  this 
uncertain  condition  of  affairs  ended.  He  perceived  more 
and  more  clearly  that  to  possess  Cornelia  would  outweigh 
his  present  position,  and  made  himself  familiar  with  the 
thought  of  sacrificing  it,  if  driven  to  extremities.  But 
the  appointment  of  minister  cast  a  weight  into  the  scale 
of  his  ambition  which  outbalanced  the  feeble  efforts  of 
his  conscience  ;  as  minister  he  could  not  inflict  upon  him- 
self and  the  court  the  disgrace  of  a  politically  suspicious 
mesalliance, — then  he  would  induce  Cornelia  to  make  the 
sacrifice,  and  he  did  not  doubt  that  she  would  do  so. 


20* 


234  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

XVIII. 

CORNELIA   AND   OTTILIE. 

CORNELIA  did  riot  suspect  what  a  sword  was  hanging 
over  her  head,  did  not  question  the  near  or  distant  future, 
but  lived  wholly  in  the  present  moment.  One  thing  alone 
she  did  not  forget, — her  visits  to  the  prisoners.  She  de- 
voted the  usual  time  to  them ;  the  place  where  she  first 
saw  Ottmar  had  become  sacred  to  her,  and  by  her  mourn- 
ful labors  for  the  unfortunate  men,  her  patience  with  their 
sufferings  and  obstinacy,  she  believed  that  she  was  pay- 
ing fate  a  tribute  for  the  happiness  enjoyed  in  her  love. 
She  rarely  appeared  in  public,  for  she  could  not  bear  the 
glances  that  accused  her  of  guilt  of  which  she  knew  her- 
self to  be  innocent.  She  therefore  no  longer  entered  a 
church  or  theatre;  her  church  was  her  love,  her  God  in 
Heinrich's  breast,  and  her  studies  with  him  conjured  up 
a  world  of  beauty.  She  wanted  nothing,  needed  nothing, 
but  him.  She  made  no  subtle  inquiries  and  no  longer 
doubted  him ;  be  was  everything  to  her,  and  she  knew 
that  with  him  she  should  lose  all. 

Thus  it  sounded  like  a  voice  from  another  world  when 
one  day  a  "stranger  lady"  was  announced.  Who  could 
visit  her  still  ?  The  lady  entered,  and  fixed  a  half-timid, 
half-questioning,  glance  upon  Cornelia. 

"You  are  Friiulein  Erwing  ?" 

"  That  is  my  name.  With  whom  have  I  the  honor  of 
speaking  ?" 

"  I  have  come  on  an  errand  from  her  Highness  the 
princess." 

Cornelia  gazed  dreamily  into  eyes  whose  blue  vied  with 
the  ribbons  on  the  stranger's  hat. 

"  Her  Highness  wishes  to  make  your  acquaintance,  and 
begs  you  to  pay  her  a  visit  to-morrow  afternoon  at  four 
o'clock." 

The  young  girl's  voice  trembled  slightly,  and  she  looked 
expectantly  at  Cornelia.  The  latter  stood  motionless  with 


CORNELIA   AND    OTTILIE.  235 

amazement,  almost  terror.  What  did  Ottilie  want  of  her  ? 
Roschen — for  she  alone  could  execute  this  confidential 
commission — was  unable  to  turn  her  eyes  from  the  noble 
figure  in  its  sweeping  black  robes. 

"  Can  you  not  at  least  tell  what  has  procured  me  the 
great  happiness  of  being  permitted  to  wait  upon  the 
princess  ?"  asked  Cornelia. 

"  No,  Fraulein  ;  I  only  know  you  will  be  received  with 
the  greatest  kindness,  and  that  only  sincere  interest  in- 
duced the  princess  to  see  you." 

"  Say  to  her  Highness  that  I  am  truly  grateful  to  her, 
and  that  I  will  wait  upon  her  to-morrow  at  the  time 
appointed." 

"  Her  Highness  will  be  very  glad.     Farewell." 

"  Excuse  me,  Fraulein ;  one  question  more :  is  your 
name  Roschen  ?" 

A  deep  blush  suffused  the  lovely  face.     "  Yes." 

Cornelia,  deeply  moved,  went  up  to  her,  took  her  hands, 
and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  fresh  lips.  "  We  have  known 
each  other  a  long  time,  have  we  not  ?" 

Roschen  was  surprised  and  greatly  agitated.  "  Yes, 
yes  !"  she  exclaimed,  pressing  Cornelia's  hand  to  her  lips. 
"  Let  me  thank  you  for  all  you  have  done  for  Albert.  We 
can  never  repay  you  for  it;  but  the  dear  God  will  know 
how  to  reward  you." 

Cornelia  gazed  into  her  eyes  for  a  long  time  with 
ever-increasing  interest.  "You  ought  to  have  become 
Albert's  wife :  the  poor  fellow  has  suffered  so  much  for 
your  sake." 

"  I  cannot  leave  the  princess,  and  besides," — Rdschen 
hesitated  a  little, — "  besides,  he  did  not  wish  it  so  very 
much.  Ah,  I  understand  it  now:  he  who  has  once  seen 
you  can  never  love  another." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  girl,  what  are  you  saying?  You  will  be 
reconciled  to  each  other  again,  or  I  shall  regret  what  I 
did  for  Albert."  She  glanced  anxiously  at  the  clock  ;  for 
it  was  almost  the  hour  when  Ottruar  might  be  expected. 

This  did  not  escape  Roschen's  natural  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing. "  I  am  detaining  you,  dear  Fraulein,  and  the  prin- 
cess is  waiting.  Farewell  !  your  kindness  has  made  me 
very  happy." 


236  A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Will  you  not  come  again,  that  we  may  continue  our 
talk?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure.  But  there  is  one  thing 
more  I  had  almost  forgotten:  the  princess  begs  you  to 
tell  no  one  that  you  have  been  requested  to  come  to  her. 
She  will  refuse  all  visitors  to-morrow  on  the  plea  of 
indisposition,  and  fears  people  might  take  it  amiss  if 
she " 

"  I  understand,"  interrupted  Cornelia,  "  and  will  say 
nothing." 

After  Roschen  had  gone  she  stood  for  a  long  time  ab- 
sorbed in  thought.  The  solution  of  this  enigma  could 
not  be  guessed.  She  rejoiced  over  the  strange  event,  for 
she  had  loved  Ottilie  ever'since  she  knew  her  relations 
with  Ottmar;  yet  it  grieved  her  to  think  that  she  would 
perceive  at  every  breath  a  happiness  denied  the  princess. 
Suppose  her  eyes  should  rest  upon  Cornelia  with  sorrow- 
ful jealousy  as  her  fortunate  rival. 

The  following  day  and  the  appointed  hour  came.  In 
great  agitation,  and  not  without  a  little  timidity  at  the 
idea  of  the  grandeur  that  surrounded  Ottilie,  Cornelia 
entered  the  magnificent  apartments  of  the  princess.  The 
groom  of  the  chambers  conducted  her  through  a  long 
succession  of  rooms.  At  last  he  paused,  pointed  to  a 
half-open  glass  door,  and  disappeared.  The  silken  por- 
tieres were  drawn  aside,  and  Ottilie  stood  before  Cor- 
nelia I 

A  long  pause  followed.  Both  leoked  at  each  other  in 
breathless  suspense.  Ottilie  was  paler  than  ever;  Cor- 
nelia deeply  flushed.  At  last  Ottilie  gently  took  her  hand 
and  murmured  almost  inaudibly,  with  a  sort  of  sorrow- 
ful satisfaction,  "  Yes ;  so  my  fancy  pictured  you  !  So 
you  must  be." 

"  Your  Highness  bestows  upon  me  so  great  a  favor 
that  I  seek  in  vain  for  words  to  express  my  joyful  sur- 
prise and  gratitude." 

"There  can  be  no  question  of  gratitude  here;  but  no 
doubt  you  were  surprised  that  I  should  request  you  to 
visit  me."  Ottilie  seated  herself,  and  drew  Cornelia 
down  upon  the  sofa  beside  her.  "  I  have  a  great  and 
important  matter  to  intrust  to  you,  Fraulein,  and  believe 


CORNELIA   AND    OTTILIE.  23T 

I  can  read  in  your  eyes,  on  your  lofty  brow,  the  certainty 
that  I  have  applied  to  the  right  person."  Cornelia  looked 
at  Ottilie  in  eager  expectation.  After  a  short  pause,  the 
latter  continued:  "Accident,  Friiulein,  or  rather  destiny, 
made  me  acquainted  with  your  labors  among  the  prison- 
ers. I  perceived  with  admiration  how  you  had  aimed  at 
results  which  the  wisest  provisions  of  the  law  could  not 
attain  ;  how  you  were  the  first  to  strew  over  the  lifeless 
forms  of  punishment  the  living  germs  from  which  sprang 
new  life,  remorse,  and  amendment.  You  will  believe  me 
when  I  say  that  no  mere  idle  curiosity,  but  heartfelt  sym- 
pathy, impelled  me  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  so  re- 
markable a  character.  I  will  even  confess  that  I  trembled 
lest  I  should  find  your  person  did  not  harmonize  with 
the  ideal  I  had'  formed."  She  paused,  and  once  more 
gazed  long  and  earnestly  into  Cornelia's  eyes;  then  bent 
towards  her  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  brow.  "  Thank 
God  that  I  now  dare  love  you  in  reality,  as  I  have  already 
done  in  fancy  !" 

"  Your  Highness,"  began  Cornelia,  deeply  moved  as 
she  sought  for  words,  while  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  more 
rapidly,  "  I  know  I  do  not  deserve  what  you  say  ;  and  yet 
a  blissful  content,  for  which  I  can  find  no  expression, 
overflows  my  whole  nature.  You  see  me  in  the  light 
that  streams  from  yourself;  but  its  rays  fall  upon  my  soul 
also,  and  wake  their  concealed  powers  of  good,  which  fill 
me  with  pride, — not  for  what  I  have  done,  but  for  what 
I  shall  accomplish.  God  knows  I  performed  these  works 
of  mercy  without  any  desire  or  hope'  of  recognition.  I 
have  long  supposed  I  labored  wholly  unobserved ;  but 
there  is  so  great  a  recompense  in  this  moment  that  it 
would  crown  the  toil  of  a  whole  life ;  and  I  will  struggle 
all  my  life  to  deserve  it." 

"You  are  enthusiastic,  my  child;  but  this  very  en- 
thusiasm makes  you  what  you  are;  so  I  will  accept 
the  flattery  contained  in  your  words  as  the  tribute 
every  noble  soul  offers  to  the  ideal  towards  which  we  all 
strive." 

"  Oh,  not  as  that  alone,  your  Highness !  Deign  to  accept 
the  childlike,  humble  reverence  of  a  heart  which  has  long 
looked  up  to  you  as  the  noblest  of  women.  I  know  not 


238  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

whether  I  ought  to  express  ia  words  what  has  been 
hovering  upon  my  lips  ever  since  the  first  moment  of  our 
meeting.  It  might,  perhaps,  be  a  great  offense  against 
etiquette,  but  I  hope  your  Highness  will  regard  the  essence 
rather  than  the  form." 

"  I  hope  you  will  do  me  the  honor  to  be  assured  of  it," 
interposed  Ottilie,  with  a  smile. 

"  Well,  then,  permit  me  to  tell  your  Highness  that  I 
have  long  loved  you  with  my  whole  heart." 

"If  that  is  true,  my  child,  I  rejoice  to  hear  it.  Love 
is  a  voluntary  gift,  which,  whether  deserved  or  not,  we 
are  always  permitted  to  receive.  I  thank  you  for  it; 
yes,  I  thank  you  from  the  inmost  depths  of  a  lonely 
heart." 

11  Ah,  if  you  were  not  a  princess !"  murmured  Cornelia, 
involuntarily. 

"My  dear  child,  how  often  I  have  said  that  myself! 
God  has  placed  me  in  this  position  only  to  test  my 
strength;  for  that  which  compensates  others  in  a  similar 
station  for  their  secret  lack  of  happiness  —  delight  in 
splendor  and  grandeur,  sovereignty  and  renown — is  de- 
nied me.  Nothing  has  any  charm  for  me;  my  joys  are 
rooted  solely  in  the  heart;  and  even  these  are  sparingly 
meted  out.  The  gulf  which  severs  the  princess  from  her 
subjects  does  not  exist  in  my  soul,  and  cannot  separate 
my  affection  from  them.  I  love  men,  respect  their  rights, 
admire  their  works,  and  thus  stand  ever  alone  upon  my 
lofty  height,  consumed  with  vain  longings,  and  stretch- 
ing out  my  arms  across  the  abyss  which  yawns  between 
me  and  the  warm  hearts  of  humanity." 

"  Poor  princess  I"  said  Cornelia,  earnestly. 

"  Yes,  poor  princess,"  replied  Ottilie,  her  eyes  resting 
dreamily  upon  Cornelia's  beautiful  features. 

"But  your  Highness  can  taste  great  joys,  and  satisfy 
your  benevolence  by  your  power  of  benefiting  so  many 
thousands." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  my  dear  child  ?"  asked  Ottilie,  with 
a  sorrowful  suule. 

"That  was  the  one  thing  for  which  I  always  envied 
princes,"  continued  Cornelia,  "  which  always  made  sov- 
ereignty appear  so  beautiful,  so  alluring." 


CORNELIA  AND   OTTILIE.  239 

"  And  the  thought  tempted  me,  too,"  said  Ottilie,  low- 
ering her  voice  to  a  scarcely  audible  whisper,  "  when  I 
allowed  myself  to  be  wedded  to  the  prince ;  but  I  was 
disappointed,  as  I  have  been  in  so  many  other  things. 
Believe  me,  my  child,  it  is  sad  to  be  compelled  to  look  on 
helplessly,  while  the  right  way  of  making  a  nation  happy 
is  earnestly  sought,  but  always  missed.  The  prince's 
views  are  so  immovable,  and  so  entirely  opposed  to  my 
own,  that  I  have  given  up  the  effort  to  exert  any  influence 
whatever  for  the  welfare  of  my  country,  although  my 
heart  bleeds  for  it.  I  know  that  no  good  can  come  for 
either  party ;  I  see  a  time  approaching  when  the  dissen- 
sion will  increase  to  such  a  degree  that  one  or  the  other 
must  fall  a  victim.  I  shall  not  live  to  see  it ;  if  I  ain 
anxious,  it  is  only  for  niy  subjects,  my  husband,  and — 
perhaps  my  children,"  she  paused.  "  God  ^rant  that  I 
may  not  be  denied  the  opportunity  of  teaching  them  a 
better  understanding  of  their  times  !" 

"  But  cannot  the  joyful  blessings  of  the  many  to  whom 
your  Highness  gives  special  aid  offer  you  some  compen- 
sation ?" 

"  Even  this  is  limited.  Every  one  who  makes  his 
narrow  circle  happy  in  his  own  way  receives  more 
pleasure  from  his  efforts  than  I :  the  princess  lacks  the 
power  of  immediate  bestowal  and  reception;  but  this 
directness  is  the  source  of  all  the  joys  of  the  soul.  If 
you,  my  child,  do  good  according  to  your  circumstances, 
you  will  be  rewarded  a  thousandfold  more  than  I,  though 
I  should  give  a  thousand  times  more.  The  poor  man, 
whose  sufferings  you  instantly  relieve,  can  show  you  his 
joy ;  it  is  not  only  the  alms,  but  your  manner  of  bestow- 
ing them,  that  console  him,  and  the  tears  sparkling  in 
his  eyes  certainly  reward  you  far  more  than  I  am  recom- 
pensed by  the  official  addresses  of  thanks  and  humble 
bows  of  delegates  from  whole  parishes  I  have  saved 
from  misery.  I  am  well  aware  that  we  should  not  per- 
form charitable  works  for  the  sake  of  gratitude,  nor  do  I ; 
but  it  is  so  natural  to  be  cheered  by  the  success  of  a 
good  deed,  the  same  sympathy  which  induces  us  to 
alleviate  the  sorrows  of  others  makes  us  long  to  share 
the  joys  we  have  prepared.  This  is  denied  me ;  etiquette 


240  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

always  stands  between  me  and  the  hearts  of  my  subjects, 
and  with  its  icy  breath  transforms  every  voluntary  show 
of  feeling  into  the  unvarying  mien  of  reverence.  You 
see,  my  child,  the  halo  your  imagination  spread  around 
sovereignty  is  vanishing  more  and  more."  She  paused, 
and  her  large,  tearful  eyes  gazed  sorrowfully  at  Cornelia. 
"  I  shall  depend  upon  your  well-known  greatness  of  soul 
to  communicate  the  purport  of  this  conversation  to  no 
one." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence,  your  Highness,  and 
will  justify  it." 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Ottilie.  "And  now  let  me  pro- 
ceed to  the  principal  matter.  I  do  so  with  a  heavy  heart, 
for  fondly  as  I  have  become  attached  to  you,  I  must  now 
make  a  proposal  whose  acceptance  will  deprive  me  of 
your  society,  because  it  depends  upon  your  leaving  the 
city.  But  I  have  learned  to  sacrifice  my  own  wishes  for 
the  welfare  of  others,  and  will  not  be  so  selfish  as  to 
claim  your  presence  here  when  it  may  prove  the  salvation 
of  so  many  unfortunates." 

Cornelia  gazed  at  Ottilie  in  speechless  expectation. 
She  felt  afraid,  for  she  had  gathered  nothing  from  the 
princess's  words  except  an  intention  to  send  her  out  of 
the  city. 

Ottilie  clasped  Cornelia's  hand  with  evident  emotion, 

and  continued :  "  I  have  founded  in  T ,  whose  lovely 

scenery  seemed  peculiarly  adapted  for  it,  an  institution 
for  the  reformation  of  female  criminals,  who,  on  being 
discharged  from  the  custody  of  the  law,  perhaps  wholly 
destitute  of  means,  and  alone  in  the  world,  would  be 
led  to  enter  the  path  of  wrong  anew  in  order  jto  escape 
hunger  and  despair.  The  idea  is  not  new ;  it  has 
already  been  attempted  in  Germany  many  times,  usually 
with  very  indifferent  success.  All  such  undertakings 
require  not  only  money,  skillful  and  conscientious  man- 
agement, and  carefully  watched  exercises,  but  a  genial 
spirit  and  loving  heart  to  breathe  life  into  the  empty 
forms,  and  rouse  in  the  penitents  themselves  an  im- 
pulse of  repentance,  for  whose  development  the  peace 
prevailing  in  the  institution,  the  pious  exercises,  and 
useful  occupations  will  afford  a  suitable  soil.  But  how 


CORNELIA   AND    OTTILIE.  241 

many  women  are  there  who  unite  to  the  highest  quali- 
ties of  the  heart  a  sound  understanding,  and  are  noble 
enough  to  devote  them  to  such  a  purpose  ?  You, 
Cornelia,  are  such  a  being;  you  possess  the  requisite 
grandeur  of  soul  and  self-denial,  and  your  heart  beats 
warmly  for  the  moral  sufferings  and  infirmities  of  man- 
kind :  you  have  already  proved  it.  Do  you  now  under- 
stand what  I  wish  to  ask  of  you  ?  You  shall  secure 
blessings  and  prosperity  for  my  subjects,  you  shall  receive 

the  position  of  directress  of  the  institution  at  T ,  and 

I  am  sure  that  this  sphere  of  influence  among  the  poor 
wanderers  of  your  owu  sex  will  suit  you  far  better  than 
to  associate  with  the  rude,  degraded  men  in  the  prison." 

Cornelia  looked  down.  "  I  see  with  painful  con- 
fusion," she  began,  at  last,  "  how  greatly  your  High- 
ness has  over-rated  me,  and  how  little  I  deserve  the 
fa'vor  you  have  permitted  to  fall  to  my  lot  in  conse- 
quence of  these  expectations.  Will  your  Highness 
most  graciously  permit  me  to  correct  the  last  opinion  you 
expressed,  that  I  must  prefer  to  associate  with  female 
criminals  rather  than  with  men.  I  feel  far  less  sympathy 
and  interest  for  a  guilty  woman ;  for  she  has  much  less 
excuse  than  a  man.  He  is  created  stronger  and  more 
ungovernable  by  nature,  therefore  his  passions  must  be 
more  violent,  his  desires  fiercer,  his  acts  and  thoughts 
ruder,  more  energetic,  while  the  moral  support  given  him 
is  not  proportionally  greater  than  that  of  the  woman. 
On  the  contrary,  the  moral  instincts  are  more  vivid  in 
the  latter,  and  her  moral  horizon  more  contracted.  How 
much  worse,  then,  must  she  be,  to  sink  into  crimes  which 
often  have  no  foundation  in  her  nature !  No  doubt, 
woman  is  also  the  cause  of  many  crimes, — or  rather 
womanly  weaknesses ;  yet  these  are  as  repulsive  to  rne 
as  the  crimes  committed  at  the  expense  of  all  womanly 
feeling." 

"That  is  a  very  harsh  judgment,"  Ottilie  interposed. 

"  I  am  not  harsh,  your  Highness  ;  I  condemn  such 
feeble  creatures  less,  but  I  have  not  sufficient  sympathy, 
even  for  them,  to  be  able  to  devote  myself  to  them  with 
the  necessary  self-sacrifice.  Besides,  I  should  be  unable  to 
believe  that  my  efforts  in  their  behalf  would  be  attended 
L  21 


242  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

with  sufficient  success,  for  the  same  weakness  that  per- 
mitted them  to  fall  into  sin  would,  it  is  true,  make  them 
easily  susceptible  to  repentance,  but  expose  them  just  as 
readily  to  any  evil  influence  as  soon  as  they  were  left  to 
themselves." 

"  That  may  unfortunately  be  true  in  many  cases.  But 
are  you  not  attracted  towards  the  poor  creatures  who 
have  fallen  victims  to  the  highest  earthly  power, — who 
have  erred  through  love?" 

Cornelia  started,  and  a  deep  blush  suffused  her  face  ; 
she  knew  not  why.  Her  conscience  was  pure,  and  yet 
she  could  not  bear  the  clear,  penetrating  glance  of  the 
princess.  Why  did  she  feel  so  startled  by  that  word? 
Why  did  the  look  that  accompanied  it  weigh  upon  her 
brow  like  a  secret  sentence?  Surely  she  had  not  erred 
through  love,  but  she  had  not  been  heedful  of  appearances. 
Suppose  Ottilie  judged  by  appearances,  and  had  spoken 
with  a  meaning?  Oh,  that  she  could  banish  this  treach- 
erous blush  !  Must  it  not  seem  to  Ottilie  the  token  of  a 
bad  conscience?  She  could  not  bear  that.  She  raised 
her  head  and  looked  the  princess  steadily  in  the  face. 

"Your  Highness,  the  law  does  not  punish  the  errors 
of  love ;  but  if  a  woman  falls  so  low  that  she  commits 
from  love  crimes  which  make  her  amenable  to  the  law, 
she  becomes  as  detestable  to  me  as  all  others.  You  see 
I  lack  the  first  requisite  for  the  vocation  your  Highness 
did  me  the  honor  to  propose, — the  true  Christian  charity 
which  does  not  judge  but  pardons." 

"  But  which  has  already  been  so  touchingly  proved  by 
your  care  for  the  prisoners  of  state,"  replied  Ottilie.  "I 
will  not  be  indiscreet,  but  I  cannot  help  remarking  that 
the  reason  you  have  just  given  cannot  be  the  only  one 
which  withholds  you  from  a  vocation  of  Christian  charily 
you  have  hitherto  voluntarily  chosen,  under  circum- 
stances far  more  favorable  to  you ;  for  your  labors  in  my 
institution  would  not  only  secure  you  every  pecuniary 
advantage  you  could  ask, — not  only  win  gratifying  suc- 
cess with  those  intrusted  to  your  care, — but  make  you 
famous  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Your  ambition,  if  you 
possess  any,  would  also  obtain  the  most  brilliant  satis- 
faction abroad  •  the  name  and  spirit  of  Cornelia  Erwing 


CORNELIA   AND    OTTILIE.  243 

could  soar  away  from  the  pleasant  work- and  prayer- 
rooms  of  the  institution  far  more  easily  than  through  the 
gloomy,  impenetrable  dungeon-walls  of  the  prison." 

"Oh,  your  Highness,  pardon  the  freedom  of  my 
words  !"  said  Cornelia,  with  noble  pride ;  "  but  you  now 
undervalue  as  much  as  you  lately  overrated  me.  Does 
your  Highness  really  suppose  that  these  prospects  could 

induce  me  to  prefer  laboring  in  the  institution  at  T . 

to  my  present  sphere  of  influence  in  the  prison  ?  Do  you 
imagine  a  pecuniary  advantage  I  do  not  even  need,  or 
ambition  for  the  cheaply-bought  fame  of  being  a  Good 
Samaritan,  which  every  hypocrite  can  obtain,  would 
induce  me  to  do  anything  to  which  my  own  feelings  did 
not  urge  me  ?  No,  your  Highness,  you  cannot  think  so 
meanly  of  one  to  whom,  a  few  moments  ago,  you  con- 
descended to  show  the  greatest  favor.  I  have  no  other 
motive  for  my  actions  than  my  heart.  In  this  alone  is 
rooted  my  strength  or  my  weakness,  as  you  may  choose 
to  term  it, — perhaps  my  selfishness.  But  all  selfishness 
that  arises  solely  from  calculating  reason  is  foreign  to  my 
nature  ;  therefore,  when  I  tell  you  that  my  heart  does  not 

draw  me  to  the  Christian  work  in  T ,  your  Highness 

may  be  assured  that  no  worldly  advantage  would  lead 
me  to  it;  yet,  if  the  contrary  were  the  case,  I  would  joy- 
fully renounce  every  material  reward." 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Ottilie  ;  "  but  may  I  ask  what 
has  so  strongly  attracted  you  towards  the  prisoners  ?" 

"Here,  also,  I  only  followed  the  impulse  of  my  own 
feelings.  Love  for  one  of  them  led  me  accidentally  to 
the  scene  of  his  misery.  Love  for  the  individual  taught 
me  to  understand  and  pity  the  sorrows  of  his  companions. 
Ordinary  crimes  would  have  terrified  me  and  tilled  me 
with  horror.  I  should  have  been  as  little  inclined  to  aid 
in  reforming  a  debased  man  as  a  base  woman,  but  at  that 
time  the  prisoners  were  principally  political  criminals. 
The  idea  for  which  most  of  them  had  struggled  and  erred, 
to  which  my  father  and  my  dead  lover  were  martyrs, 
was  necessarily  sacred  to  my  heart;  and  although  I 
admit  that  it  may  have  been  erroneous, — even  pernicious 
in  the  extremes  and  manner  in  which  they  strove  to 
establish  it, — I  could  neither  condemn  nor  abhor  those 


244  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

who  had  suffered  for  the  same  conviction  to  which  my 
father  had  sacrificed  himself.  At  first  I  employed  my 
efforts  only  in  behalf  of  the  political  prisoners.  An  acci- 
dent, however,  made  me  acquainted  with  a — as  people 
usually  say — 'common  murderer';  and  I  found  in  him  a 
weak-minded,  but  thoroughly  noble  man,  who  had  been 
driven  by  the  force  of  circumstances  to  do  what  is  recog- 
nized among  all  nations,  not  only  as  a  right,  but  a  duty ; 
he  punished  the  tempter  of  his  betrothed  bride  1"  She 
paused  a  moment,  while  again  a  deep  blush  suffused  her 
face. 

Ottilie,  too,  blushed  slightly,  and  murmured,  "  I  know 
the  particulars  of  the  occurrence." 

"That  convinced  me,"  continued  Cornelia,  "  how  many 
good  and  evil  powers  can  exist  in  the  broad  breast  of  a 
man  at  the  same  time, — how  mighty  the  impulses  often 
are  to  commit  crimes  which  arise  in  his  life;  and  from 
that  moment  I  went  into  the  cells  of  all  who  justified 
this  view." 

"And  were  there  many  of  them?"  asked  Ottilie. 

"  No,  your  Highness.  With  the  exception  of  the  po- 
litical prisoners,  at  the  utmost  only  four  or  five  among  a 
hundred  and  twelve  ;  but  these  few  were  sufficient  to 
confirm  my  assertion." 

"  And  among  a  hundred  female  convicts,  would  you  not 
perhaps  find  four  or  five  deserving  of  your  sympathy?" 

"Very  possibly,  your  Highness;  but  I  could  not  devote 
myself  only  to  these:  I  should  be  compelled  to  care  for 
the  many  wicked  creatures  who  could  only  arouse  my 
loathing  and  abhorrence.  I  have  always  considered  my 
labors  in  the  prison  as  an  episode,  and  only  employed  a 
few  hours  of  the  day  in  them  ;  but  here  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  devote  my  whole  time — nay,  my  life — to  a  vo- 
cation which  could  not  satisfy  me.  lam  not  one  of  those 
persons  who  do  anything  systematically,  who  make  the 
work  of  mercy  a  trade, — a  mechanical,  daily  occupation, 
— in  which,  through  habit,  they  become  so  dull  that  th<-y 
scarcely  feel  the  blessing  of  their  labors.  I  wish  to  per- 
form it  freely  and  earnestly,  whenever  and  wherever  I 
find  an  opportunity:  and  whose  destiny  does  not  afford 
one  ?  I  do  not  even  want  you  to  be  obliged  to  make  it  for 


CORNELIA   AND   OTTILIE.  245 

me, — it  must  come  as  a  revelation  from  the  inmost  heart 
of  life ;  and  when  I  seize  upon  it,  it  must  be  a  quick, 
joyful  deed,  gushing  full  and  warm  from  the  depths  of  a 
loving  breast.  Thus  alone  can  it  make  me  and  others 
happy;  thus  alone  can  I  practice  charity." 

Ottilie  clasped  Cornelia's  hand,  and  gazed  into  her  eyes 
with  increasing  delight. 

"  This  may  be  selfish,"  the  latter  continued,  "but  it  is 
natural,  and  I  cannot  make  myself  different  from  what  I 
am.  I  want  events,  emotions,  and — love.  I  want  art 
pleasures.  I  feel  the  pulsations  of  an  ever-advancing  civ- 
ilization throbbing  within  me,  and  am  ennobled  by  my 
enthusiasm  for  everything  beautiful  which  it  has  created. 
With  this  tide  of  life  swelling  in  my  breast,  I  cannot  bury 
myself  behind  the  walls  of  an  institution  for  penitents, — 
cannot  turn  my  delighted  eyes  from  the  loftiest  model  of 
human  greatness  to  fix  them  forever  upon  the  lowest 
caricatures  of  depravity.  In  the  monotony  of  such  a  life 
I  should  die  of  longing  for  the  warm  human  love  which 
has  hitherto  streamed  forth  from  the  noble  hearts  that 
surrounded  me.  I  see  no  moral  obligation  to  do  so,  for 
I  am  proud  enough,  your  Highness,  to  believe  that  God 
has  destined  me  to  make  a  good  and  noble  being  happy. 
Does  it  not  seem  to  your  Highness  far  more  beautiful  to 
devote  a  life  to  this  purpose,  rather  than  allow  it  to 
wither  away  in  an  institution  for  the  reformation  of  de- 
graded creatures  ?" 

Cornelia  had  scarcely  ended  when  she  found  herself 
clasped  in  Ottilie's  arms. 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  the  princess,  with  deep  emotion.  "  I 
have  esteemed  you  highly,  but  not  known  you  ;  now  I  un- 
derstand you.  You  shall"  hear  no  more  from  me  of  an  ex- 
pectation so  ill  suited  to  your  character.  You  are  born  for 
higher  things  ;  you  belong  to  the  great  band  of  those  who 
are  appointed  to  restore  the  ideal  balance  of  the  world. 
You  are  right.  Fate  allots  to  each  hi.-;  sphere  of  labor,  and 
you  are  to  make  the  happiness  of  an  equally  gifted  nature. 
To  seek  to  withdraw  you  from  this  object  would  be  com- 
mitting a  wrong  against  him  for  whom  God  created  you  ; 
and,  in  truth,  he  must  love  the  man  to  whom  he  has 
given  you  for  a  companion."  Again  a  short  pause  fol- 

21* 


246  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

lowed.  "Let  those  for  whom  life  has  no  longer  any 
hopes,  whom  it  has  robbed  of  all  the  heart  of  woman 
needs,  devote  themselves  to  the  vocation  I  have  men- 
tioned. For  you  many  great  joys  and  duties  are  still 
reserved,— but  do  not  deceive  yourself,  perhaps  many 
sorrows  also." 

"  Oh,  I  have  never  blinded  myself  to  that !"  replied 
Cornelia.  "  I  do  not  fear  them.  No  one  is  spared,  and 
what  all  suffer  will  not  be  too  heavy  for  me." 

"It  is  easy  for  us  to  say  so.  God  grant  you  may 
be  spared  the  hours  when  we  doubt  our  own  strength ! 
Shall  I  be  frank?"  she  asked,  with  sudden  resolution; 
and  then  continued,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  "I 
thought  I  could  guard  you  from  such  sorrows  when  I 

selected  you  for  the  position  at  T .  I  believed  you 

to  be  under  dangerous  influences,  and  as  I  had  become 
deeply  interested  in  you  from  the  descriptions  I  had 
heard,  thought  it  my  duty  to  constitute  myself  your  pro- 
tectress. But  I  now  feel  ashamed  in  your  presence,  for 
I  am  convinced  that  you  are  too  noble  to  need  my  pro- 
tection ;  you  have  the  best  support  in  yourself.  It  de- 
pends upon  you  to  make  the  power  that  will  be  exerted 
over  you  beneficial  or  otherwise,  and  I  know  now  it  will 
be  the  former." 

"Oh,  your  Highness,"  cried  Cornelia,  her  eyes  dim 
with  tears,  "  I  thank  you  for  those  words  !  But  I  beseech 
you  not  to  overvalue  me  at  the  expense  of  another  whose 
influence  I  have  thus  far  felt  as  one  rich  in  blessing.  I 
should  despise  myself  if  I  did  not  gratefully  remember 
all  tlie  beauty  and  goodness  I  have  received  through  the 
very  intercourse  you  feared  for  me.  Least  of  all,  your 
Highness,  could  I  bear  to  see  the  heart  which  is  the 
dearest  thing  on  earth  to  me  misunderstood  by  you." 
She  was  silent  in  alarm.  Ottilie  coughed  and  pressed  her 
handkerchief  to  her  lips,  then  removed  it  and  looked  at 
Cornelia  with  a  smile.  Cornelia  could  not  speak:  she 
was  gasping  for  breath  ;  she  had  seen  blood  on  the  trans- 
parent folds. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  Ottilie  began,  as  quietly  as  if 
nothing  had  happened, — "do  you  really  suppose  I  mis- 
understand this  heart?  Ah,  no  !  But  I  see  its  faults, 


CORNELIA    AND    OTTILIE.  217 

and  wished  to  warn  you  of  them.  God  knows  whether 
he  has  a  truer  friend  than  I.  As  long  as  he  lived  at  my 

court  in  H I  devoted  the  most  kindly  care  to  him ; 

but  my  influence  was  too  weak.  Perhaps  the  blissful 
task  of  ennobling  him  is  assigned  to  her  whom  he  loves. 
May  God  bless  and  strengthen  you  for  this  work!  And  of 
whatever  nature  the  faults  you  will  discover  in  the  course 
of  time  may  be,  beware  of  them;  but  do  not  let  yourself 
be  discouraged,  they  are  only  the  goblin  shapes  of  his 
twofold  nature,  which  will  melt  into  nothing  as  soon  as 
your  pure,  noble  spirit  is  united  to  his  better  self.  Bear 
with  him  faithfully,  for  he  will  love  you  as  he  never  did 
any  one,  and  must  be  utterly  wretched  without  you!" 

She  rose.  Her  cheeks  glowed,  and  her  eyes  again 
beamed  with  the  unearthly  expression  of  a  spirit  about  to 
take  its  flight  from  the  earth. 

Cornelia  kissed  her  hand  with  deep  emotion.  "  Your 
Highness,  I  stand  before  you  as  if  in  the  presence  of  the 
guardian  angel  of  my  betrothed,  and  take  a  solemn  vow 
that  nothing  shall  part  me  from  him  except  himself !  I  knew 
his  faults  before  his  good  qualities,  and  they  were  so  great 
they  made  me  forget  the  latter.  I  began  by  despising, 
and  ended  by  loving  him  ;  and  if  1  should  lose  faith  in 
him  again  I  should  die!" 

"Oh,  my  child,  we  outlive  a  great  deal!  May  God 
protect  you  and  him  !  Farewell.  Remember  me  kindl}- 
until  I  can  see  you  again."  She  dismissed  Cornelia  with 
a  warm  embrace.  "He  will  not  corrupt  her;  she  will 
save  him,"  she  murmured.  "  My  God,  I  thank  thee!" 

"  Are  you  come  at  last  ?"  cried  a  well-known  voice,  as 
Cornelia  entered  the  room.  "  Where  have  you  been  ? 
I  have  been  waiting  for  you  an  hour." 

"  And  you  are  so  much  accustomed  to  have  me  devote 
myself  entirely  to  you,"  said  Cornelia,  as  she  laid  her  hat 
and  shawl  aside,  "  that  you  are  angry  because  I  have 
given  even  a  few  hours  to  some  one  else."  She  sat  down 
beside  him,  drew  back  his  head,  and  gazed  with  winning 
tenderness  into  his  clouded  face.  "  Must  I  ask  whether 
you  have  come  to-day  as  a  schoolmaster  or  a  lover  ? 
The  book  lying  beside  you,  and  your  stem  manner,  pre- 


248  A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

diet  the  former ;  but  I  must  confess  that  I  have  no  mind  to 
give  to  anything  except  the  wonderful  event  of  this  day." 

"  Well,  what  has  happened  to  you  ?"  asked  Heinrich, 
resting  his  head  upon  her  shoulder.  "  Tell  me." 

"I  have  just  come  from  the  priucess." 

Heinrich  started  up  in  astonishment. 

"  She  offered  me  the  position  of  directress  at  T ." 

"  Ah,  she  wanted  to  get  you  out  of  the  city!  She  is 
jealous,"  he  murmured. 

"  Oh,  how  meanly  you  think  of  that  noble  soul !  She 
had  other  reasons  which  I  cannot  discuss  more  particu- 
larly ;  and  indeed,  Heinrich,  she  is  an  angel !" 

"  What  answer  did  you  make  to  her  proposal  ?" 

"  I  rejected  it." 

"  There  I  see  my  own  Cornelia." 

"  Oh,  is  this  the  first  time  you  understand  me  ?  I 
think  you  ought  to  have  done  so  before." 

"  You  are  fight;  you  have  already  made  greater  sacri- 
fices,— if  it  is  a  sacrifice  you  are  making  for  me." 

"  Of  course  it  is.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  might 
not  have  accepted  Ottilie's  proposal  if,  after  Veronica's 
death,  I  had  been  left  alone  with  my  heart  full  of  philan- 
thropic enthusiasm  and  without  your  love." 

"  In  any  case,  you  would  have  been  committing  a  great 
piece  of  folly." 

"According  to  your  ideas,  but  not  mine.  You  will 
never  believe  how  much  happiness  the  good  we  do  to 
others  can  bestow ;  and  yet  you  are  not  happy,  although 
all  your  life  you  have  lived  only  for  yourself." 

Heinrich  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor. 

"  Believe  me,  dearest,  the  benefits  we  confer  upon  others 
recoil  upon  ourselves,  as  well  as  the  wrongs  we  inflict 
upon  them  ;  and  as  often  as,  mindful  only  of  our  own 
advantage,  we  are  compelled  to  injure  others,  so  often  we 
shall  reap  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing." 

Heinrich's  eyes  were  still  more  gloomy. 

"  He  who  wishes  to  grasp  and  keep  happiness  solely 
for  himself  will  find  it  quickly  fade,  as  we  cannot  make 
a  flower  our  own  by  plucking  it  and  placing  it  in  the 
breast;  it  will  only  gladden  us  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
wither  uselessly.  Only  when  you  plant  happiness  in  the 


CORNELIA   AND   OTTILIE.  249 

Boil  of  other  hearts,  and  share  their  joys,  will  it  bear 
flowers  and  fruits  for  you.  The  law  of  multiplication 
does  not  merely  extend  through  the  material,  but  the 
spiritual  world.  All  the  elements  of  our  being  are  united 
in  us,  and  in  this  unity  they  collect  their  strength,  but 
are  intended  to  be  scattered  abroad  when  they  develop, 
so  luxuriantly  that  we  can  no  longer  seek  the  limits  of 
our  being  within  the  narrow  bounds  of  our  own  hearts, 
but  in  the  wide  sphere  of  our  beneficent  influence.  The 
egotist  never  knows  the  satisfaction  found  in  the  execu- 
tion of  every  great  or  insignificant  law  of  the  universe, 
for  he  shuts  himself  mentally  within  himself,  and  draws 
the  juices  from  the  soil  in  which  he  is  rooted  without 
ever  enriching  it.  He  believes  it  well  to  receive  without 
giving,  and  yet  feels  withered  within.  He  does  not  un- 
derstand himself,  bitterly  accuses  the  world  and  destiny 
which  have  thus  insulated  and  placed  him  in  a  false 
position,  and  does  not  perceive  that  the  blessing  he 
vainly  expected  from  others  ought  to  have  emanated 
from  himself!" 

Heinrich  started  up.  "Yes,  my  Cornelia,  in  many  in- 
stances you  have  hit  the  mark  wonderfully.  But,  believe 
me,  my  child,  the  sphere  in  which  I  live  is  not  adapted 
to  that  beneficent  expansion  of  self.  It  is,  in  reality,  a 
sphere  of  egotism,  in  which  one  must  greedily  cling  to 
his  own  advantage  if  he  would  not  have  it  torn  from  him. 
There  is  no  individual  connection  between  us  diplomats, 
we  are  only  united  by  our  functions  as  constituent  parts 
of  the  great  mechanism  which  drives  the  machinery  of 
the  government;  and  neither  can  the  heart  develop  warm 
benevolence  when  one  has  accustomed  himself  to  look 
upon  nations  merely  as  the  material  to  be  manufactured 
by  this  machinery  into  a  well-regulated  whole.  Imagine 
the  feelings  of  a  man,  a  statesman.  You  speak  of  diffus- 
ing his  own  character  abroad:  I  know  what  you  under- 
stand by  it;  it  is  all  very  noble  and  beautiful  for  the 
philanthropic  members  of  the  masses,  but  it  is  the  duty 
of  statesmen  to  guide  and  govern  the  populace,  an  1  \ve 
must  not  mingle  among  those  we  rule.  We,  too,  devote 
our  strength  to  them,  but  we  associate  a  more  abstract 
idea  with  the  word  than  you  sanguine  philanthropists. 
L* 


250  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

You  understand  it  to  mean  only  the  people,  but  we  the 
government,  the  law,  the  extension  of  the  interests  of 
trade,  the  protection  of  the  highest  interests  in  foreign 
countries, — in  short,  everything  upon  which  the  pros- 
perity of  a  country  depends.  To  you  the  nation  has  a 
personal,  to  us  only  a  political,  individuality;  you  are  in- 
cessantly caring  for  its  position  towards  the  throne,  but 
we  for  its  position  towards  the  world  !"  He  looked  at 
Cornelia,  who  was  hanging  upon  his  words  in  breathless 
expectation.  "  Well,  my  Cornelia,  do  we  not  both  live 
for  the  whole, — each  in  our  own  way?" 

"  There  are  your  sophisms  again,  against  which  my 
natural  intuition  strives  with  so  much  difficulty.  I  confess 
that  none  of  your  words  have  made  any  other  impression 
than  the  sorrowful  one  of  self-deception.  Heiurich ! 
Heinrich  !  what  will  become  of  you  if  you  accustom  your- 
self to  make  sport  of  truth  ?  You  have  described  how  a 
statesman  thinks  and  feels,  but  not  how  you  think  and  feel. 
Of  course,  there  are  statesmen  who  have  the  welfare  of 
the  people  at  heart ;  but  such  men  cannot  live  in  a  country 
like  this,  or  they  must  be  short-sighted  enough  to  see  hap- 
piness in  despotism.  But  you  are  not  so  blind.  Heinrich, 
you  understand  the  conditions  of  a  higher  national  devel- 
opment, and  know  you  are  working  against  it;  you  are 
sinning  against  the  most  sacred  rights  of  humanity,  yet 
say  you  are  laboring  for  the  whole.  What  do  you  under- 
stand by  this  word  ?  To  you  it  is  merely  an  empty  sound ; 
for  that  which  gives  it  life  and  meaning  to  us,  anxiety  for 
the  common  welfare,  is  unknown  to  you.  Do  not  say 
you  live  for  the  state,  if  not  for  the  people!  Is  there  a 
state  without  a  nation  ?  Establish  one  with  ideas  instead 
of  men  ;  govern  these,  and  you  will  have  the  same  reason 
to  boast  of  your  labors  for  '  the  whole.'  " 
.  "You  are  becoming  violent  and  unjust,  my  Cornelia." 
"It  always  makes  me  indignant  when  I  see  you  palli- 
ating such  faults  as  these.  I  can  forgive  the  worst 
offense  if  frankly  confessed  and  recognized,  but  to  a 
palliated  error  I  am  unrelenting.  Forgive  me,  if  I  was 
violent,"  she  pleaded,  clinging  fondly  to  him.  "  Come, 
kiss  me  ;  you  are  so  cold  to-day."  She  drew  him  nearer 
her  as  they  sat  on  the  sofa.  "  Let  us  talk  quietly  ;  I  feel 


CORNELIA    AND    OTT1LIE.  251 

« 

more  anxious  to  discuss  this  subject  fully  to-day  than 
ever  before.  You  love  power.  The  impulse  of  asserting 
itself  is  associated  with  every  important  endowment;  it 
is  a  stimulus  for  it  to  develop  and  become  of  value  to  the 
world.  Nothing  is  more  just  and  natural  than  that  you 
should  feel  it  also.  But  in  you  it  has  taken  a  false 
direction  ;  you  perceive  power  only  in  your  present  posi- 
tion. But  what  power?  It  was  voluntarily  placed  in 
your  hands  from  above,  and  arbitrarily  endured  by  the 
nation ;  so  it  is  a  purely  external  one,  without  change  of 
action  or  spiritual  echo.  You  are  conscious  of  it  your- 
self only  by  the  possibility  of  having  your  will  executed 
by  means  of  a  few  strokes  of  the  pen  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
and  extending  it  further  than  is  permitted  to  the  private 
citizen.  Accident  has  given  you  this  power,  accident 
may  deprive  you  of  it  again ;  therefore  it  neither  makes 
you  happy  nor  satisfies  you.  There  is  only  one  real 
pleasure  of  that  nature, — mastery  over  minds  ;  this  can 
neither  be  given  to  us  nor  taken  away,  we  must  win  and 
retain  it  by  our  own  strength.  And  what  pride  can  be 
more  noble  than  that  we  take  in  the  result  of  our  own 
merits?  Cease  to  be  a  machine  among  machines,  and 
become  conscious  of  the  privileges  of  independent  effort ; 
be  at  least  a  man  among  men.  Leave  your  present  resi- 
dence and  return  to  your  former  home  ;  go  into  the 
Chambers,  there  your  intellect  and  personal  magnetism 
will  produce  a  great  effect  upon  the  multitude;  there  you 
will  first  learn  to  know  the  manifold  charms  to  be  found 
in  such  a  direct  subjugation  of  minds !  Descend  from 
your  false  height,  and  let  yourself  be  borne  by  the  hands 
of  the  people  to  the  summit  of  a  powerfully  increasing 
development  of  civilization.  You  have  hitherto  served 
a  prince,  while  you  gave  laws  to  the  nation  ;  you  can 
henceforth  give  orders  to  a  prince,  while  you  are  a  king 
in  the  hearts  of  the  people."  She  rested  her  cheek  against 
his,  and  asked,  with  loving  emotion,  "Does  not  this  pros- 
pect charm  you  ?" 

"  If  all  this  could  be  done  in  reality  as  easily  as  in 
your  vivid  fancy,  my  glorious  Cornelia,  it  might  well 
charm  me.  But  I  am  a  practical  man ;  I  shall  not  resign 
a  secure  and  brilliant  position  to,  perhaps,  obtain  nothing 


252  ^    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

except  the  favor  of  miserable  proletarians,  or  cast  aside 
the  moral  and  political  credit  I  possess,  with  the  proba- 
bility of  losing,  by  another  change  ^)f  opinion,  all  trust 
here  and  elsewhere  !  You  cannot  ask  that  of  me.  Let 
him  who  has  nothing  at  stake  make  the  desperate  ven- 
ture, but  I  have  not  only  the  advantage  but  the  honor  of 
an  established  career  to  lose." 

"Honor  and  advantage, — but  happiness?  Oh,  Hein- 
rich !  you  have  no  happiness  to  lose,  for  you  have  never 
possessed  any;  and  you  will  only  save  your  honor  before 
yourself  and  God  when  you  begin  a  new  life.  So  what 
do  you  risk  ?  I  do  not  ask  you  to  proclaim  your  change 
of  opinion  at  once  to  all  the  world.  Leave  the  service 
of  the  government,  withdraw  to  your  estates,  and  live 
there  as  a  private  citizen  ;  win  the  sympathies  of  the 
whole  neighborhood,  and  come  forth  from  your  seclusion 
as  a  deputy.  How  can  you  be  threatened  with  any  loss  of 
honor  ?  Be  assured  the  world  is  not  so  degenerate  as  to 
refuse  its  esteem  for  an  honest  action.  You  will  not  fall 
here,  you  will  voluntarily  resign  your  brilliant  position 
for  the  sake  of  your  convictions:  a  manly  deed  which  de- 
mands and  will  receive  recognition.  Your  former  party 
will  hail  you  with  joy,  and  trust  you  on  account  of  the 
sacrifice  you  made  to  return  to  it ;  and  in  a  short  time 
you  will  have  obtained  all  you  now  think  one  of  my 
fantastic  ideas.  Ob,  believe  me,  I  see  clearly  the  path 
you  must  choose, — the  only  one  that  will  lead  to  happi- 
ness 1" 

Heinrich  released  himself  from  Cornelia's  encircling 
arms,  and,  starting  up,  went  to  the  window  and  leaned 
his  brow  thoughtfully  against  the  panes.  Cornelia 
watched  him  in  silence.  She  left  him  entirely  to  himself, 
for  she  knew  he  was  inaccessible  to  tenderness  when  any- 
thing occupied  his  mind.  This  was  the  mood  to  which 
she  had  found  it  so  difficult  to  accustom  herself,  and  now 
it  appeared  especially  harsh.  Suddenly  he  turned,  took 
up  his  hat,  and  kissed  Cornelia  on  the  forehead.  "  Fare- 
well !" 

"Heiniich  !"  she  exclaimed,  "are  you  going  already? 
Have  I  offended  you  so  deeply  ?" 

"Not  offended,  but  you  have  given  me  much  food  for 


CORNELIA   AND    OTTILIE.  253 

thought;  roused  a  new  conflict  within  me.  Leave  me 
to  myself  to-day." 

"  Why  especially  to-day  ?     What  does  that  mean  ?" 

"  You  will  learn  when  the  time  comes." 

"Another  secret!  Ob,  Heiurich  !  You  never  share 
anything  with  me  except  your  tenderness  and  the  poetic 
effusions  of  your  vivid  imagination.  I  am  shut  out  from 
your  intellectual  life,  and  know  nothing  of  it  except  what 
my  own  penetration  enables  me  to  guess." 

"Do  not  be  angry,  my  child;  sooner  or  later  a  time 
will  come  when  there  will  no  longer  be  anything  between 
us,  when  you  will  obtain  possession  of  my  whole  exist- 
ence." With  these  words  he  kissed  her  again,  and  left 
the  room  without  looking  back. 

"Sooner  or  later  a  time  must  come,  when "  Cor- 
nelia repeated  the  words.  A  roseate  flush  of  joy  suffused 
the  grave  face.  Was  not  the  end  of  her  humiliation  ap- 
proaching? Was — she  scarcely  ventured  to  confess  what 
sweet,  proud  hopes  these  words  aroused.  Why  had  her 
conversation  made  so  strange  an  impression  upon  him  ? 
Her  heart  throbbed  expectantly :  would  her  fate  perhaps 
be  decided  that  day  ? 

It  was  decided.  Heinrich's  inmost  soul  had  been 
stirred  by  Cornelia's  ideas.  The  thought  of  playing  a 
great  part  in  the  Chamber,  of  joining  the  new  and  unde- 
niably strong  movement,  .charmed  him.  He  could  find 
more  change,  more  excitement,  in  this  path  than  in  the 
worn-out  interests  of  his  court  life,  and  possibly  even  attain 
the  object  of  his  ambition, — the  portfolio.  He  could  marry 
Cornelia,  noble,  beautiful  girl,  without  injury  to  his  plans; 
nay,  she  would  even  be  necessary  to  him  in  this  career. 
Perhaps  he  might  yet  be  a  happy  man.  If  the  prince 
did  not  take  him  into  the  ministry,  there  was  nothing 
better  for  him  to  do  than  to  exchange  the  worn-out  old 
life  for  a  new  one ;  and  by  the  time  he  reached  home  he 
almost  wished  it.  As  he  entered  his  room,  absorbed  in 
thought,  Anton  handed  him  a  paper.  He  started  as  he 
read  it, — it  was  his  nomination  as  minister  of  foreign 
affairs.  The  die  was  cast. 

22 


254  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

XIX. 

THE   CATASTROPHE. 

THE  following  day  Cornelia  awoke  with  the  first 
glimmer  of  dawn.  The  vague  expectation  excited  by 
Heinrich's  ambiguous  words  had  kept  her  long  awake, 
and  now  drove  her  from  her  couch  earlier  than  usual. 
She  made  a  hasty  toilet  and  hurried  out  into  the  autumn 
morning.  It  was  damp  and  gloomy;  a  thick  fog  made 
earth  and  sky  vanish  in  a  gray  cloud ;  the  withered 
leaves  fell  from  the  wet  bushes  with  a  low  rustle  as  her 
garments  brushed  n gainst  them.  She  did  not  heed  it. 
Spring  was  in  her  heart,  and  the  warm  life  in  her  breast 
seemed  to  glow  through  the  chilling  scene  around  her. 
Mechanically  she  entered  the  path  she  was  most  accus- 
tomed to  follow.  It  led  to  the  churchyard.  She  walked 
through  the  long  rows  of  graves,  apparently  the  only  liv- 
ing creature  in  the  broad  place  of  death;  but  as  she  ap- 
proached the  wall  she  suddenly  saw,  at  a  few  paces'  dis- 
tance, two  grave-diggers  lowering  a  little  coffin  into  the 
earth.  She  approached  and  asked,  "  Whose  child  is  this 
you  are  burying  so  entirely  alone  ?" 

"  It  is  illegitimate,"  said  one  of  the  men,  dryly. 

Cornelia  shuddered.     "  Oh,  how  terrible!" 

"  Yes,  it's  a  pity  for  silly  girls  to  allow  themselves  to 
be  so  blinded.  If  they  thought  more  of  their  honor,  they 
wouldn't  meet  with  misfortune.  And  the  poor  children 
always  have  to  suffer  for  it.  This  one  was  put  out  to  board 
with  strangers,  who  neglected  it  so  that  it  fell  sick  and 
died.  The  girl  to  whom  it  belonged  was  obliged  to  go 
out  to  service  again  because  her  lover  deserted  her  before 
the  child  was  born,  so  she  couldn't  trouble  herself  about 
it,  and  was  obliged  to  leave  it  to  die." 

"  Poor,  poor  child!"  thought  Cornelia,  looking  at  the 
grave  with  tearful  eyes.  "  Usually  when  a  child  is  born 
it  is  received  with  joy  and  love;  but  shame  stood  beside 
your  cradle,  shame  hovers  over  your  lonely  grave.  No 


THE  CATASTROPHE.  255 

happy  father  took  you  in  his  arms,  no  gladsome  mother's 
eyes  answered  your  first  trusting  smile  ;  nobody  wanted 
you,  and  the  only  one  who  loved  you  was  obliged  to 
deny  you  until  God  had  compassion  upon  you  and  took 
you  to  himself.  Now  your  forsaken  mother  may  perhaps 
be  stretching  out  her  arms  despairingly  to  grasp  the 
empty  air,  and  must  conceal  her  anguish  as  deeply  as 
her  darling  has  just  been  buried  in  the  earth.  Terrible 
fate  !  May  God  protect  every  loving  woman  from  it !" 
Tears  flowed  more  and  more  quickly  down  her  cheeks ; 
she  turned  away  and  wept  out  the  emotion  that  had 
seized  upon  her  on  the  graves  of  Veronica  and  Reinhold. 
As  she  went  home  she  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  it 
was  misty  and  dreary,  and  entered  the  house  in  a  graver 
mood  than  she  had  left  it. 

"Marie,"  she  said  to  her  chambermaid,  "while  I  was 
at  the  churchyard  it  occurred  to  me  that  this  is  Veronica's 
birthday.  Order  some  wreaths  for  her  grave  ;  I  wish  to 
have  it  adorned  on  such  anniversaries." 

The  hours  dragged  slowly  away.  Ottmar  did  not 
appear  at  the  usual  time ;  but  instead  the  evening  paper 
announced  his  appointment  as  minister.  That  was  why 
he  had  been  so  absent-minded  yesterday,  why  his  words 
had  contained  a  vague  promise  of  a  speedy  decision  of 
her  fate ;  so  this  was  the  secret.  Surely  the  turning- 
point  in  her  life  must  now  be  reached  ;  he  had  obtained 
what  he  desired,  and  might  dare  to  marry.  Her  heart 
beat  more  and  more  violently.  Quarter  of  an  hour  after 
quarter  of  an  hour  passed  away.  He  could  not  come  to- 
day :  he  probably  had  too  much  to  do  ;  and  yet  she  longed 
so  anxiously  to  see  him. 

Her  servants  asked  whether  they  should  carry  the 
wreaths  the  gardener  had  just  skillfully  arranged  to  the 
grave.  "Yes,  go,"  said  Cornelia,  absently;  "no  one 
will  come  to-day  now."  But  scarcely  had  the  maids 
left  the  house  when  the  bell  was  impatiently  pulled. 
Cornelia  opened  the  door  with  trembling  expectation, 
and  sank  upon  Ottmar's  breast. 

Henri  had  just  met  the  two  servants  in  the  street. 
Had  Cornelia  ventured  to  send  them  away  when  she 
knew  he  was  coming  ?  or  was  she  preparing  to  leave  the 


256  ^    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

house?  He  could  form  no  conclusion,  but  explained  the 
incident  in  his  own  favor;  knew  himself  to  be  alone  with 
Cornelia,  and  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  his  own  exciied 
feelings. 

"  You  are  a  minister,"  she  began.     "  You  have  now 

,  obtained  that  for  which  you  struggled.     It  will  afford 

you  no  greater  happiness  than  your  present  position  ;  but 

I  perceive  this  throws  too  heavy  a  weight  into  the  scale 

not  to  outbalance  my  counsels." 

"  Come  here,  my  Cornelia;  do  not  let  us  discuss  such 
matters  now,"  said  Henri,  drawing  her  upon  his  knee. 
"  I  can  do  nothing  to-day  but  look  at  and  caress  you. 
Do  not  grudge  me  the  sweet  refreshment  after  long  hours 
of  burdensome  ceremonies  and  fatiguing  business.  My 
mind  is  so  wearied  that  I  can  no  longer  think  of  any- 
thing, only  feel  that  I  clasp  you  to  my  heart,  that  you 
are  mine,  wholly  mine!  Is  it  not  so?" 

Cornelia  leant  silently  upon  his  breast.  "At  last,  at 
last  he  will  utter  the  word  I  have  so  longed  to  hear!" 
she  thought,  clinging  to  him  in  a  fond  embrace.  He 
pressed  his  lips  to  her  ear,  and  whispered  so  low  that 
she  could  not  understand  him,  but  felt  he  must  be  making 
promises  of  eternal  love  and  tenderness,  while  his  hot 
breath  bewildered  her  like  the  fumes  of  opium.  Then  a 
word  fell  upon  her  ear  more  distinctly,  causing  a  thrill 
never  felt  before.  He  had  called  her  his  "  wife."  Over- 
whelmed with  happiness  she  closed  her  eyes,  her  head 
sank  upon  his  shoulder,  and  tears  of  unspeakable  delight 
stole  from  beneath  her  long  lashes.  In  this  name,  for 
which  she  knew  but  one  meaning,  he  had  expressed  the 
fulfillment  of  her  fairest  hopes.  She  remained  in  this 
blissful  confidence  a  moment  longer.  Henri's  voice  grew 
still  more  persuasive,  fell  still  more  distinctly  upon  Cor- 
nelia's ear.  Suddenly  the  veil  which  had  surrounded 
her  soul  was  torn  away ;  she  was  forced  to  hear,  forced 
to  understand,  what  she  had  never  been  willing  to  believe. 
Springing  up,  she  stood  before  Henri  as  if  frozen  into  a 
statue  ;  there  was  neither  life  nor  coj^rln  the  face  blanched 
to  the  pallor  of  marble,  save  in  the  eyes,  which  rested 
with  increasing  firmness  and  brilliancy  upon  his  startled 
countenance. 


THE  CATASTROPHE.  257 

Henri  had  prepared  himself  for  an  outburst  of  indigna- 
tion or  grief;  this  speechless  amazement,  this  frozen  horror, 
first  revealed  to  him  how  deep  her  trust  had  been,  and 
how  he  had  ascribed  many  things  to  levity,  or  believed' 
them  a  triumph  of  love,  which  had  been  rooted  wholly 
in  the  security  of  this  unshaken  confidence.  He  perceived 
he  had  prepared  Cornelia  badly  for  his  plans  ;  but  it  was 
too  late :  he  could  not  unsay  what  had  been  said.  At 
last  her  lips  moved,  and  word  after  word  began  to 
struggle  through  them. 

"  So  this  is  the  meaning  you  give  to  the  sacred  words 
'  my  wife,' — in  this  way  I  shall  not  be  denied  the  privi- 
lege of  becoming  yours  ?  This  relation  does  not  dishonor 
— the — minister !" 

"Cornelia,"  cried  Henri,  with  a  slight  shudder,  "not 
this  scorn !  I  cannot  bear  it.  Do  you  not  understand 
that  I  have  inviolable  duties  towards  my  position  and  the 
dignity  with  which  my  prince  trustfully  invested  me? 
that  there  are  barriers  far  more  difficult  for  a  man  to 
overleap  than  for  a  woman  to  pass  the  bounds  prescribed 
by  what  we  call  morality  ?  Speak,  Cornelia  :  could  you 
expect  me,  the  representative  of  the  highest  aristocracy 
in  the  country,  the  supporter  of  the  most  rigid  despotic 
principles  of  government,  to  suddenly  present  to  the  aston- 
ished world  as  my  wife  the  daughter  of  a  fugitive  traitor, 
who  has  herself  hitherto  moved  exclusively  in  plebeian  and 
democratic  circles  ?  Would  not  your  pure  brow  flush 
beneath  the  contemptuous  glances  which  would  see  only 
your  origin,  not  yourself?  I  could  not  present  you  at 
court ;  and  would  it  not  be  far  more  humiliating  if,  as  my 
lawful  wife,  you  were  excluded  from  the  circles  to  which 
I  belong,  if  you  were  always  compelled  to  conceal  yourself 
in  the  darkness  of  obscurity,  like  one  proscribed,  while 
feeling  that  the  lofty  name  you  bore  was  a  burning-glass 
to  draw  upon  you  the  fiery  rays  of  public  curiosity  ?" 

Cornelia  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  heart  as  if  she . 
felt  the  stroke  of  a  dagger. 

"Could  you  bear  this  ignominy  ?— could  you  suffer 
your  husband  to  bear  it  with  you  ?  You  know  that  to 
me  you  are  a  queen  ;  but  the  world  in  which  I  live  would 
never  weary  of  preparing  humiliations  for  you  that  even 

22* 


258  A   TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

I,  as  your  husband,  could  not  always  prevent,  and  which 
would  perhaps  lower  my  proud,  noble  love  in  my  own 
eyes.  All  this  you  can  avoid  if  you  will  remain  outside 
the  sphere  into  which  our  marriage  would  bring  you,  if 
you  will  live  in  seclusion  as  the  sweet  wife  of  my  heart, 
unknown  and  unnoticed,  but  surrounded  by  the  glory 
with  which  a  great  self-sacrificing  love  invests  a  woman. 
That  I  would  be  a  faithful  husbaud  to  you,  my  Cornelia, 
I  swear  by  every  solemn  oath.  No  other  shall  ever  stand 
at  my  side ;  no  one  shall  bear  the  name  which,  before 
God,  belongs  to  you,  and  which  I  dare  not  give  you  be- 
fore the  world.  I  will  open  a  heaven  of  bliss  to  you, 
and  at  the  end  of  our  days  you  shall  tell  me  whether,  in 
the  true,  real  sense  of  the  word,  you  have  not  been  my 
wife,  whether  I  have  not  deserved  the  sublime  confidence 
with  which,  without  the  customary  guarantees,  you 
placed  the  happiness  of  your  life  in  my  hands.  Come, 
Cornelia,  come  to  my  heart."  And,  as  he  uttered  the 
words,  he  threw  himself  on  his  knees  before  her,  extend- 
ing his  arms  imploringly. 

Cornelia  still  stood  motionless.  She  saw  him  at  her 
feet,  looking  so  noble  with  that  mute  entreaty  on  bis  lips, 
gazed  at  him  for  a  second,  then,  like  a  despairing  cry  of 
agony,  the  words  burst  forth, — 

"  Oh,  Heinrich,  why,  why  must  it  come  to  this  ?" 
"  Why  ?  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?''  cried  Henri, 
starting  up.  "  Cornelia,  be  more  merciful  than  the  fate 
that  denies  you  to  me.  Could  I  reject  my  prince's  call 
to  the  aid  of  the  throne,  withdraw  my  powers  fronj  the 
service  of  the  state  at  the  moment  they  were  most  needed  ? 
Ought  I  to  have  made  such  a  sacrifice  to  my  love  when 
I  was  sure  you  would  joyfully  offer  the  lesser  one,  which 
is  necessary  to  our  happiness  ?  What  have  you  to  fear? 
You  are  living  in  exceptional  circumstances,  have  no  one's 
permission  to  ask,  have  told  me  a  hundred  times  that 
you  despised  the  judgment  of  the  world,  that  you  felt 
within  your  own  heart  a  higher  power,  which  justified 
you  in  taking  your  own  course.  If  I  had  believed  any 
woman  capable  of  a  love  which  bad  sufficient  morality 
in  self  to  be  able  to  cast  aside  all  laws  without  degener- 
ating, it  would  have  been  yourself;  and  you  are  such  a 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  259 

woman,  you  alone.  In  your  lofty  breast  human  nature 
has  developed  free  and  unfettered,  as  it  came  from  the 
hand  of  the  Creator;  it  does  not  judge  according  to  the 
ordinances  of  the  church-police,  or  so-called  moral  tra- 
dition, but,  pure  and  undefiled,  unquestioningly  follows 
the  guidance  of  the  love  which  pervades  all  creation,  and 
which  mankind  first  disfigured  and  chained  by  arbitrary 
laws." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Cornelia.  "And  our  ideas  of  virtue,  of 
the  sacredness  of  marriage,  they  would  lack  all  firm 
foundation  had  not  God  placed  a  guard  upon  our  pas- 
sions in  our  own  breasts." 

"  Cornelia,  can  you  ask  such  questions  ?  They  are  a 
protection  to  the  weak,  of  course.  Marriage,  as  a  sacra- 
ment, is  a  great  institution,  which  the  infirmities  of  hu- 
man nature  rendered  necessary  ;  but  for  those  strong 
exceptional  natures  that  feel  themselves  nearer  the  deity 
it  is  an  empty  form." 

"  So  would  be  morality,  honor,  family  happiness, — all 
would  be  mere  illusions,  and  our  most  immediate  aim 
nothing  more  than  to  become  thinking  animals.  This 
would  bring  us  nearest  to  our  divine  origin." 

"  Do  not  scorn  me  thus,  Cornelia  ;  I  do  not  deserve  it, 
for  I  am  in  solemn  earnest.  Is  marriage,  then,  merely  a 
civil  union  formed  under  the  eyes  of  the  church-police? 
Is  it  not  rooted  in  those  who  truly  love  each  other?  Can- 
not they,  without  marriage-certificate  or  altar,  found  a 
true,  peaceful  family  life  apart  from  society,  and  there- 
fore the  more  untroubled  ?  If  they  have  become  truly 
one  in  spirit,  do  they  need  the  compulsion  of  the  world 
and  the  church  to  remain  faithful  to  each  other?  Is  not 
marriage  a  mere  superfluous  ceremony  to  such  beings? 
and  is  not  a  relation  that  depends  upon  the  most  profound 
mental  and  physical  sympathy,  and  endures  through  its 
own  power,  more  moral  than  a  so-called  legal  marriage, 
which  exists  only  in  form  where  two  persons  are  united 
that  are  repulsive  to  each  other, — two  souls  that  do  not 
understand  each  other, — where  people  seek  refuge  from 
despair  in  crime,  and,  after  committing  infidelities,  play 
the  old  falsehood  to  themselves  and  the  world  until  loath- 
ing and  constraint  stupefy  their  souls  and  the  individual 


260  ^    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

v 

sinks  into  §  mere  animal?  Is  this  more  moral,  Cornelia? 
Could  the  church  consecrate  what  was  commonplace, 
disunited,  separated  ?  Is  not  such  an  alliance  a  greater 
blasphemy  than  if  two  beings,  with  the  loftiest  feelings, 
give  themselves  to  each  other  for  a  life  of  free  love  and 
voluntary  faithfulness  ?" 

"  And  would  it  be  blasphemy  if  two  such  beings  sanc- 
tioned their  alliance  before  the  world  by  a  marriage,  if 
they  made  that  which  is  hallowed  in  itself  sacred  in  the 
eyes  of  society  ?"  asked  Cornelia. 

Henri's  eyes  fell  before  her  glance.  "  It  would  not  be 
blasphemy;  and  any  one  whom  circumstances  permitted 
to  do  so  would  be  very  wrong  not  to  avail  himself  of  the 
beautiful  form,  with  its  many  benefits.  But  where  it 
would  disturb  a  whole  life,  natures  like  ours  have  a  right 
to  dispense  with  it." 

"And  wherein  does  this  disturbance  of  the  whole  life 
consist?  In  the  possible  loss  of  the  portfolio!  This  is 
the  lofty  object  to  which  everything  else  must  yield, 
even  the  feeling  whose  '  divine  power,'  according  to  your 
views,  might  dispense  with  the  sanction  of  the  law." 

"Oh,  no,  my  angel  !  Shall  I  love  you  less  if  you  are 
mine  of  your  own  free  choice  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  shall 
but  hold  you  the  more  tenderly  in  my  heart.  You  are 
too  noble,  too  unselfish,  to  compel  me  to  sacrifice  either 
the  proud  goal  of  my  efforts,  or  the  happiness  of  my  love, 
when  it  is  in  your  power  to  afford  me  both." 

"  But  if  I  do  not  possess  this  unselfishness, — if  I  asked 
your  hand  as  a  proof  of  your  integrity, — then  I  must 
yield  to  the  interests  of  your  ambition,  and  the  statesman 
would  conquer  the  lover." 

"  Cornelia,  I  no  longer  know  you.  Is  this  the  self- 
sacrificing  woman  who  has  always  cared  only  for  others, 
never  for  herself?  and  could  you  now  suddenly  transform 
yourself  into  a  calculating  egotist,  who  bargains  and  hig- 
gles for  a  price,  and  demands  the  sacrifice  of  a  whole 
career  in  return  for  her  love?  Cornelia,  an  unconditional 
sacrifice,  a  complete  forgetfulness  of  self,  might  have  won 
me  to  anything,  but  this  is  not  the  way  to  obtain  my 
hand." 

He  looked  up  and  recoiled  a  step  in  horror,  for  before 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  261 

him  stood  the  gorgon  he  had  once  imagined  in  those 
eyes.  The  disheveled  hair  seemed  to  move  ;  her  gaze 
rested  upon  Henri  with  petrifying  power.  At  last  the 
tension  of  the  nerves  relaxed,  the  blood  surged  into  her 
face,  and  her  noble  indignation  flushed  her  cheek  with 
as  deep  a  crimson  as  it  had  before  been  pale.  "  Heinrich  1" 
she  cried,  "  I  have  borne  your  fiendish  dialectics  long 
enough  !  I  wished  to  know  you  thoroughly,  and  there- 
fore forced  myself  to  be  calm.  Now  this  must  cease  ;  the 
measure  is  full !  Do  you  really  believe  I  would  so  far 
humiliate  myself  as  to  bargain  and  beg  for  your  hand  ? 
Do  you  really  suppose  the  sacrifice  you  ask  would  be  too 
great  for  me,  if  I  could  justify  it  before  God  and  my  own 
conscience, — if  you  were  worthy  of  it  ?  That  you  are 
not  you  have  now  shown  me.  I  was  obliged  to  hear 
the  answer  you  gave  me  with  my  own  ears,  or  I  should 
not  have  believed  it ;  therefore  I  asked  the  question.  I 
was  forced  to  learn  your  falsehood  from  your  own  lips,  to 
be  able  to  offer  you  the  only  thing  you  deserve,  my  scorn. 
Yes,  my  nature  is  so  healthful  that  I  have  strength  to 
thrust  evil  from  me,  though  my  very  life  should  cleave 
to  it.  Oh,  Heinrich,  that  it  must  come  to  this!  You 
have  stripped  the  bloom  from  my  existence,  stolen  the 
most  sacred  emotions  of  a  young,  trusting  heart,  wished 
to  take  from  me  honor,  faith,  all  that  affords  support  and 
protection  to  a  woman,  torn  the  wings  from  my  soul  to 
chain  me,  and  then,  when  you  wished  to  disown  me,  to 
say  'flyaway.'  Oh,  treacherous  soul-murderer,  beautiful 
and  winning  as  no  other  can  ever  be,  for  whose  creation  an 
angel  must  have  mated  with  a  fiend,  I  love  and  hate  you 
with  equal  fervor  !  I  would  gladly  ennoble  you,  yet  feel 
already  how  you  have  corrupted  me.  Yes,  I  understand 
that  no  one  resisted  you, — that  you  conquered  wherever 
you  went;  but  here,  proud  man,  is  the  limit  of  your  vic- 
tory. The  shame  you  destined  for  me  does  not  humiliate 
me,  for  I  am  conscious  I  have  not  deserved  it.  See,  it 
rouses  every  hostile  power  within  me.  I  feel,  with  a 
shudder,  how  they  are  taking  possession  of  my  heart, 
calling  mockingly  in  my  ears,  'Count  Ottmar's  mistress,' 
and  painting  scenes, — scenes  which  might  well  drive  me 
to  madness.  And  there  stands  the  man  who  loves  me, 


262  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

and  from  pure  affection  dooms  me  to  such  tortures  ;  who 
will  not  suffer  me  to  stand  by  his  side  before  the  world  ; 
will  not  give  me  his  name  in  return  for  the  life  he  de- 
mands: and  all  this  is  from  pure  love;  and  I, — why  do 
I  not  from  pure  love  thrust  a  knife  into  his  false  breast  to 
avenge  the  law  he  derides  ?" 

"  So  that  is  it  ?  Because  I  will  not  make  you  Countess 
Ottmar  1  That  is  what  causes  you  such  bitter  griff? 
Oh,  Cornelia,  you  are  far  more  haughty  than  virtuous  !" 

"  Oh,  my  God,  how  have  1  deserved  this  ?"  cried  Cor- 
nelia. "  Heinrich,  Heinrich,  vengeance  will  come  upon 
you  !  You  will  some  day  be  compelled  to  answer  before 
God  for  the  heart  you  have  crushed !  You  wish  by  your 
sophisms  to  drive  me  to  sacrifice  my  virtue,  merely  to 
prove  that  I  am  noble  and  unselfish,  that  I  love  the  man 
and  not  the  count.  Oh,  it  is  a  clever  calculation,  and 
may  already  have  led  many  a  gentle  heart  astray  !  But  it 
recoils  from  my  firm  reason,  for  the  supposition  is  false, 
Heinrich.  If  your  love  and  esteem  are  only  to  be  ob- 
tained by  sin,  you  are  so  evil  that  you  are  not  worth  the 
trouble  of  winning.  Believe  that  I  am  more  haughty 
than  virtuous ;  believe  that  my  anger  is  only  roused 
because  I  am  not  to  become  Countess  Ottmar;  I  cannot 
convince  you  to  the  contrary,  for  God  and  his  commands 
are  higher  than  you,  and  God  sees  my  heart  and  knows 
how  it  bleeds  and  quivers!" 

"  Do  not  be  so  violent,  Cornelia;  you  cannot  leave  me. 
You  are  mine ;  own  that  you  are.  You  have  inhaled  the 
sweet  poison  from  my  lips,  and  your  soul  absorbed  in  full 
draughts  the  fiery  language  of  my  passion.  You  have 
foreseen  all  the  joys  of  love ;  womanhood  has  unfolded 
its  perfect  flower.  You  cannot  go  back.  Come,  my  dove, 
you  are  fluttering  timidly,  and  yet  feel  that  you  are  bound. 
Come,  my  angel,  demand  my  vows  ;  I  will  give  them  ;ill 
to  you  as  if  before  the  altar.  Does  not  Christ  himself,  to 
whom  you  pray,  say,  'Where  two  are  gathered  together 
in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them'?" 

"  Hold,  blasphemer,  to  whom  nothing  is  sacred  !"  cried 
Cornelia,  releasing  herself  from  his  arms  in  mortal  terror; 
and  with  sudden  resolution  she  rushed  to  the  door,  along 
the  passage,  down  the  staircase, — heard  him  following 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  263 

her,  and  hurried  through  the  dark  streets.  She  did  not 
know  herself  what  she  wanted,  or  where  she  was  going; 
"  away,  away  from  him"  was  her  only  thought.  A  door 
stood  ajar,  and  a  faint  light  streamed  through  the  open- 
ing. It  was  the  church  of  the  Jesuits.  She  fled  into  it. 
The  house  of  God  was  empty,  only  a  priest  was  praying  at 
the  altar  beneath  the  red  glow  of  the  ever-burning  lamp. 
Henri's  steps  echoed  behind  her.  She  rushed  up  to  the 
dark  figure,  and  sank  senseless  before  him. 

"  Heaven  has  apparently  chosen  me  to  be  your  good 
spirit,  Count  Ottmar,  since  I  always  stand  in  your  way 
when  you  are  in  the  act  of  doing  things  you  might  after- 
wards regret,"  said  the  Jesuit,  bending  over  Cornelia. 

In  the  haste  of  the  pursuit  Henri  had  recognized 
Father  Severinus  too  late.  Now  he  stood  before  him  in 
amazement,  and  beheld  his  precious  treasure  lying  sense- 
less in  the  arms  of  his  mortal  enemy.  Henri  was  pain- 
fully embarrassed.  "Severinus,"  said  he,  "I  assure  you 
this  whole  scene  is  the  result  of  the  folly  of  an  innocent, 
enthusiastic  girl,  and  that  you  may  safely  trust  me  to 
escort  her  home." 

Severinus  gazed  with  increasing  admiration  at  Cor- 
nelia's pure,  pale  features,  as  he  aided  her.  to  rise.  "  It 
depends  on  the  decision  of  the  lady  herself  whether  she 
will  go  with  you,  or  place  herself  under  my  protection." 

"  Cornelia  !"  cried  Henri,  in  tones  so  loud,  so  full  of 
agony,  that  she  opened  her  heavy  eyes.  "Cornelia, 
angel  of  my  life,  do  not  abandon  me !  Come  with  me, 
and  forgive  me  for  having  alarmed  you.  Give  me  your 
dear  hand,  and  let  me  take  you  home.  Cornelia,  have 
you  no  longer  a  single  glance  for  your  Heinrich  ?" 

She  stood  trembling  before  him  with  downcast  eyes, 
and  did  not  move.  "  If  this  reverend  gentleman  will 
take  me,  I  will  ask  him  to  accompany  me.  With  you, 
Heinrich,  I  shall  go  no  more." 

"Come,  my  daughter,"  said  Severinus,  with  inexpress- 
ible gentleness. 

Deep  grief,  such  as  he  had  never  felt  before,  over- 
mastered Henri.  He  tried  to  kiss  her  hand,  but  she 
withdrew  it.  "  Will  you  act  in  opposition  to  the  dictates 
of  your  own  heart,  Cornelia?"  he  exclaimed.  "  My  love, 


264  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

do  not  cause  yourself  so  much  pain.  See,  you  are  pity- 
ing me  almost  more  than  I  pity  myself.  Be  more 
womanly,  Cornelia;  you  cannot  treat  the  man  in  whom 
your  life  is  rooted  thus.  This  is  not  the  place  for  such 
discussions.  I  will  forgive  your  want  of  confidence  and 
your  having  exposed  me  to  this  gentleman  in  such  a 
manner.  To-morrow,  my  Cornelia,  I  shall  hope  to  find 
you  more  reasonable." 

"More  reasonable?     You  will  never  find  me  again." 

"  Cornelia !" 

"  I  think  you  will  feel  yourself  that  between  us  no 
reconciliation  is  possible.  We  are  parted  1" 

"  Cornelia!  and  you  have  loved  me!" 

"  Because  I  have  loved,  still  love — I  fear  you,"  she 
breathed  almost  inaudibly.  "  Should  I  need  to  fly  from 
you  if  I  hated  you  as  I  ought  ?" 

She  fixed  her  eyes  once  more  on  the  wondrously  beau- 
tiful features,  now  ennobled  by  pain;  tear  after  tear 
rolled  slowly  down  her  cheeks;  she  shivered  violently, 
and  sank  sobbing  at  the  feet  of  a  life-size  figure  of  Christ, 
resting  her  burning  head  against  the  cold  stone. 

"  Oh,  Cornelia,"  whispered  Henri,  his  voice  trembling 
with  emotion;  "unhappy  child,  why  do  you  lacerate 
your  own  heart  and  mine  so  cruelly  ?  Tell  me,  wherefore 
do  you  now  suffer  all  this?  wherefore  do  you  renounce 
me,  do  you  bear  this  anguish  ?" 

"  Wherefore  ?"  she  said,  looking  up  to  the  Christ  to 
which  she  still  clung.  "Ask  Him.  He  will  teach  you." 

Severinus  had  stood  a  little  apart,  watching  Cornelia 
as  if  in  a  dream  ;  he  was  deeply  moved.  With  a  manner 
more  tender  than  Henri  had  ever  seen  in  him,  he  now 
approached  and  offered  her  his  arm.  She  obeyed  him 
almost  unconsciously,  and  passed  slowly  by  Ottmar. 
The  latter  threw  himself  before  her,  and  pressed  her 
divss  to  his  lips. 

"  Girl,  girl,  I  will  not  leave  you  !  It  is  not  possible  that 
you  can  cast  me  off, — it  is  unnatural  !  Cornelia,  am  I  to 
lose  you  ?  can  it  be  ?  will  you  take  all  the  joy  and  happi- 
ness from  my  life  ?" 

Cornelia  stood  with  her  hands  pressed  upon  her 
bosom,  struggling  for  breath. 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  265 

"  Have  you  no  longer  a  word,  a  glance,  for  me  ?  can 
you  see  the  head  you  have  so  often  cradled  on  your 
bosom  at  your  feet,  and  not  bend  and  raise  it  forgivingly 
to  your  heart  ?  will  you  not  look  smilingly  into  my  eyes, 
and  say,  '  Enough  of  punishment,  I  am  appeased '? 
Draw  your  arm  from  that  stranger's  and  place  it  around 
my  neck,  and  I  will  bear  you  through  the  world  as  lov- 
ingly, as  watchfully,  as  a  god.  See,  I  kiss  the  spot 
where  your  heart  is  beating,  and  it  does  not  burst ;  its 
blood  does  not  gush  forth  upon  my  breast  with  inQnite 
sorrow  at  the  thought  of  a  separation.  You  do  not 
stir ;  you  let  me  plead,  let  me  extend  my  arms  despair- 
ingly to  you,  and  will  not  throw  yourself  into  them, — 
say  no  word  of  compassion  to  the  man  whom  you  have 
called  a  thousand  times  by  every  fond  name  love  could 
utter." 

"  Heinrich  !  Heinrich  !"  cried  Cornelia,  throwing  her 
arms  around  him  and  pressing  her  lips  to  his,  "this  is 
more  than  human  nature  can  bear!" 

"  Oh,  my  Cornelia !  Do  you  then  feel  you  are  mine  ? — 
that  all  your  purposes  are  false  ? — that  nothing  is  true  and 
eternal  except  our  love  ?" 

"  My  daughter,"  said  Severinus,  gently,  "  be  steadfast 
as  you  were  just  now." 

Cornelia  looked  up  and  brushed  the  tears  from  her 
face.  "  I  thank  you  ;  I  am  steadfast,"  she  replied,  with 
firm  resolution.  "  Good-night,  Heinrich,  for  the  last 
time." 

She  turned  to  leave  the  church  with  Severinus. 

Henri  started  up  like  a  wounded  tiger  ;  all  tenderness 
was  transformed  into  fury.  "  Go,  then  !"  he  shouted, 
trembling  with  rage;  "you  are  no  woman, — you  are  a 
fiend  !  You  have  deserted  me,  not  I  you;  now  we  are 
quits." 

The  young  girl  tottered  out  of  the  church  with  Sever- 
inus without  casting  another  glance  behind. 

Both  reached  Cornelia's  house  in  silence.  Severinus 
paused.  "Command  me,  Fraulein.  Shall  I  leave  you 
alone,  or  can  I  be  of  any  further  service  to  you  ?  A 
young  girl  doubtless  needs  protection  against  such  a  man 
as  Oltrnar."  « 

M  23 


266  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?"  asked  Cornelia. 

"I  do"." 

"May  I  ask  you  to  come  in  with  me?" 

"  Most  joyfully." 

The  servants,  on  their  return,  had  found  the  house 
open,  and  were  in  the  greatest  anxiety  about  Cornelia. 
Her  maid  came  to  meet  her,  crying,  "  Oh,  heavens,  how 
you  look!" 

They  entered  the  drawing-room,  the  apartment  so 
short  a  time  ago  the  scene  of  peace  and  joy ;  whose 
atmosphere  was  still  pervaded  with  HenrVs  glowing 
breath.  There  lay  the  gloves  he  had  forgotten  in  his 
haste.  Her  tears  burst  forth  afresh.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
had  just  come  from  his  funeral,  and  could  not  part  from 
these  last  sad  tokens  of  hisvlife.  She  mutely  motioned 
Severinus  to  be  seated  ;  she  could  not  speak, — could  not 
express  her  emotions  in  words.  Severinus  understood 
her  thoroughly,  and  watched  her  in  silence.  She  sat 
with  bowed  head,  speechless  and  pale;  her  hands  resting 
on  her  lap ;  her  loosened  tresses  falling  around  her,  wet 
with  tears.  She  still  saw  the  impression  made  on  the 
soft  carpet  where  he  had  knelt  before  her;  there  lay  a 
velvet  ribbon  he  had  torn  from  her  arm ;  with  a  deep 
blush  she  looked  up  at  the  priest,  as  if  he  could  read  her 
thoughts.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  she  noticed  his  deli- 
cate features,  the  melancholy  expression  of  his  large  dark 
eyes,  and  gazed  at  him  more  earnestly.  With  an  invol- 
untary motion  he  pushed  the  hair  from  his  brow,  and  a 
broad  scar  became  visible.  . 

"  You  are  Severinus  !"  she  exclaimed,  starting  up  and 
seizing  both  his  hands. 

"  Did  you  not  know  it?"  he  asked,  in  astonishment. 

"No,  I  did  not  hear  your  name  just  now;  but  I  think  I 
once  saw  you  in  a  brighter  hour  than  this." 

"In  the  churchyard  a  few  months  ago." 

"Yes.  Ah,  it  was  a  fleeting  happiness!"  she  mur- 
mured. "  It  is  strange  that  we  should  meet.  Oh,  I 
salute  you:  the  only  person  of  whom  Heinrich  always 
spoke  with  reverence,  whom  God  has  sent  to  be  my  pre- 
server I" 

"May  the  Almighty  grant  that  I  shall  prove  so  I    But 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  267 

what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Will  you  raise  rue  to  the  rank 
of  your  friend,  that  as  such  I  may  cdnsole  you,  since  I 
am  not  permitted  to  bestow  the  blessings  of  my  ecclesi- 
astical office  upon  a  Protestant?" 

"  How  do  you  know  I  am  of  the  Lutheran  faith  ?" 

"  Because  I  have  long  known  you,  long  watched  your 
quiet  labors  in  the  prison;  and  of  late,  since  the  report 
of  your  relations  with  Ottrnar  went  abroad,  prayed  that 
the  Almighty  might  save  the  honor  of  a  being  wjiom 
he  had  created  or  his  glory,  if  at  any  time  she  was  in 
danger." 

"A  report?  Oh,  God!  had  matters  already  gone  so 
far  with  me?  Ah,  this  despicable  world  !" 

"Calm  yourself,  my  daughter.  Do  not  accuse  the 
world :  you  yourself  are  not  wholly  blameless.  Had 
you  submitted  more  to  the  laws  of  womanly  custom, 
everything  might  now  be  very  different." 

Cornelia  covered  her  face.  "Alas,  I  believed  all  men 
as  pure  as  myself!" 

"  You  are  right.  If  you  had  been  less  innocent,  you 
would  have  paid  more  attention  to  appearances.  Yet  you 
now  see  yourself  where  it  leads  when  a  woman  breaks 
down  the  barriers  that  protect  her.  If  you  had  belonged 
to  our  church,  and  had  a  confessor  whom  you  trusted, 
he  would  have  called  your  attention  betimes  to  the 
dangers  that  threatened  you,  and  spared  you  many  a 
bitter  pang." 

"Alas,  many  faithful  friends  warned  me,  but  I  would 
not  listen  :  I  had  no  thought  for  anything  except  this 
man.  I  was  bound  by  a  magic  spell,  which  permitted 
me  only  to  breathe  with  his  breath,  live  in  his  life.  I  h;id 
forgotten  God  and  the  world  for  him ;  and  therefore  I  am 
now  punished." 

"  You  recognize  the  hand  of  God,  my  child.  Ah,  yes  ! 
I  know  it  rests  heavily  upon  those  he  loves.  You  had 
suffered  yourself  to  become  absorbed  too  thoughtlessly  iu 
the  passions  of  earth,  and  therefore  he  tore  you  away  to 
the  purer  sphere  of  self-sacrifice  and  sorrow.  Many  an 
earthly  happiness  can  still  bloom  for  you,  but  you  will  be 
purified  and  enjoy  it  with  grateful  consciousness.  This 
is  the  blessing  of  your  sorrow." 


268  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"  Oh,  how  nobly  you  speak !  Go  on,"  pleaded  Cornelia, 
clasping  her  hands  and  kneeling  like  a  little  child  beside 
the  arm-chair  in  which  Severinus  was  seated. 

"  You  have  conquered,  my  daughter,  and  your  heart 
bleeds  from  honorable  wounds;  yet  do  not  imagine  that 
the  contest  is  ended  with  this  one  victory  :  it  will  not 
save  you.  In  the  languor  into  which  the  soul  falls  after 
groat  moral  efforts,  it  is  all  the  more  defenseless  against 
a  frash  assault.  You  must  leave  here,  must  withdraw 
into  solitude,  where,  as  your  days  form  the  links  of  a 
continuous  chain  of  self-sacrifice,  you  will  obtain  a  quiet, 
unassuming  victory  over  your  passions.  In  the  stillness 
of  a  magnificent,  lonely  region,  you  will  once  more  hear 
the  gentle  voices  in  which  God  speaks  to  mankind.  Be- 
neath shad}'  trees,  and  beside  cool  brooks,  the  tumult  of 
the  blood  will  be  allayed,  the  life  and  labors  of  millions 
of  innocent  creatures  will  employ  your  fancy,  lead  you 
back  to  simplicity  and  childlike  faith,  and  with  devout 
reverence  you  will  receive  the  duty  that  takes  up  its 
abode  in  every  purified  soul." 

"Yes,  reverend  sir,  you  are  right:  I  need  repentance 
and  rest ;  and  balm  for  all  sorrows  can  be  found  only  in 
beautiful  nature.  I  must  leave  here ;  but  where  shall  I 
go?  I  have  traveled  very  little;  know  not  whither  to 
turn ;  and  since  my  engagement  to  Ottmar  have  become 
so  much  estranged  from  all  my  friends  that  I  could  not 
now  ask  any  one  to  accompany  me ;  besides,  I  know  of 
no  one  whom  I  would  suffer  to  look  into  my  heart.  You 
are  the  only  person  whom  a  strange  accident  has  made 
my  confidant,  you  understand,  and  in  these  few  moments 
have  become  so  necessary  to  me  that  it  would  be  very 
difficult  for  me  to  part  with  you.  Help,  counsel  me." 

"  You  still  have  a  faithful  maid?" 

"  Certainly." 

"Well,  then,  promote  her  to  be  a  'companion,'  and 
take  me  for  your  fatherly  guide,  if  you  believe  I  know 
how  to  judge  and  treat  you  in  the  present  state  of  your 
soul." 

"  What !  would  you  devote  your  precious  time  to  me  ?" 

"  If  you  need  me,  yes." 

"  If  I  need  you  ?     Ob,  reverend  sir,  how  can  I  thank 


THE   CATASTROPHE.  269 

you,  how  can  I  reward  you  for  a  sympathy  of  which  I 
am  so  unworthy  ?" 

"  To  save  your  immortal  soul,  to  reconcile  you  with 
God,  is  the  only  reward  and  gratitude  I  ask.  I  am  only 
doing  my  duty  if  I  aid  your  erring  spirit  to  find  its  home 
again." 

"  Oh,  my  friend,  you  arouse  an  emotion  never  felt 
before  !  I  never  knew  my  parents.  Let  me  find  in  you 
that  of  which  I  have  so  long  been  deprived  :  a  father  on 
whose  heart  I  can  weep  out  my  sorrows.  Alas,  I  have 
never  enjoyed  this  blessing  :  I  know  not  what  it  is  when 
a  child,  overwhelmed  with  remorse,  falls  at  its  father's 
feet,  and  the  latter,  kindly  absolving  it  from  its  guilt,  says, 
'  Come,  you  are  forgiven  !'  I  have  sinned  deeply  ;  yet  if 
I  had  had  my  parents,  everything  would  have  been  differ- 
ent. Father  Severinus,  can  you  enter  into  an  orphan's 
feelings  ?  Ah,  one  who,  clasped  in  the  arms  of  his  family, 
has  never  lacked  love,  cannot  know  what  it  is  to  grow  up 
alone,  without  that  warm  affection,  that  blissful  inter- 
change of  parental  and  filial  love,  and,  with  an  overflow- 
ing heart,  which  in  its  ardor  could  contain  a  world,  find 
only  sober  friendship  and  partial  understanding!  My 
dear  Veronica  was  an  angel  !  I  owe  her  all  the  good 
qualities  I  possess:  she  reared  me  lovingly,  and  treated 
me  like  a  mother  ;  but  she  had  not  a  mother's  affection, — 
that  rich,  gushing  tenderness  which  a  warm,  childish 
heart  demands.  1  did  not  need  an  angel,  but  a  noble, 
mature  human  being,  and  strict  discipline.  My  powers 
soon  carried  me  beyond  her  narrow  intellectual  sphere; 
she  became  more  and  more  beneath  me  mentally,  and  in- 
dulged me  wonderfully.  I  remained  an  obedient  child, 
and  loved  her  devotedly  ;  but  she  could  not  give  me  what 
I  required.  An  unfortunate  youthful  fancy  passed  over 
me  like  a  dream.  My  aspiring  mind  knew  no  bounds; 
my  thirst  for  love  vainly  sought  satisfaction  in  society,  in 
toiling  for  the  poor  and  miserable.  Then  I  met  Heinrich, 
with  his  ardor,  his  winning  charm  ;  and  all  the  affection  a 
child  has  for  its  father  and  mother,  all  the  passion  a 
woman  can  feel,  I  had  for  him.  Now  came  the  result  of 
my  education.  Always  habituated  to  do  as  I  pleased,  I 
despised  the  commands  of  custom,  the  warnings  of  friends. 

23* 


270  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

After  being  so  long  deprived  of  love,  it  burst  over  me 
like  a  flood  :  I  gave  myself  up  to  it  blindly.  Perhaps  I 
thereby  forfeited  my  lover's  respect,  and  apparently  justi- 
fied him  in  inflicting  upon  me  the  humiliation  from  which 
I  fled  to  your  protection,  sir."  She  sighed  heavily.  "Ah, 
thank  God  that  I  could  pour  out  my  heart  to  you!  For 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  feel  the  happiness  of  confessing 
a  fault  with  remorseful  sorrow,  divesting  my  soul  of  its 
pride,  and  placing  myself  in  the  hands  of  a  merciful  judge  ! 
Impose  the  punishment,  and  I  will  bear  it;  tell  me  the 
penance,  and  I  will  perform  it ;  but  then,  then  bend  down 
to  me  and  tell  me  as  my  father  would  have  done,  '  Come ; 
you  are  forgiven' !" 

She  laid  her  clasped  hands  upon  the  arm  of  the  chair, 
and  looked  at  Severinus  imploringly.  The  latter  sat 
absorbed  in  thought,  gazing  into  her  face. 

"My  dear  child,  you  give  me  the  right  to  punish  and 
pardon;  I  can  only  make  use  of  the  latter  privilege.  Your 
intellectual  development,  as  you  have  described  it  to  me, 
excuses  your  relations  with  Ottmar,  and  your  pathetic 
submission  to  this  unprincipled  man.  I,  too,  was  orptaned ; 
I,  too,  have  wandered  through  the  world  with  a  loving 
heart,  and  never  found  what  I  sought.  To  me  also  men 
have  seemed  cold  and  empty;  they  did  not  respond  either 
to  my  ideas  or  feelings.  But  what  drew  you  down 
raised  me  ;  the  overmastering  impulse  led  me  to  a  purer 
sphere.  In  our  church,  Cornelia,  reigns  the  man-born 
God.  I  could  seize  upon  him,  throw  myself  into  his 
arms,  and  there  find  the  love,  the  condescension,  I  needed. 
Our  church  alone  is  the  bridge  which  unites  the  Deity 
with  the  earth.  The  symbols,  Cornelia,  are  the  steps  by 
which  the  clumsy  human  mind,  so  long  as  it  is  fettered 
by  temporal  ideas,  climbs  upward  to  the  supernatural. 
Even  the  most  sinful  man  can  reach  God,  if  he  makes 
the  symbols  his  own.  While  your  church  requires  a 
purified  spiritual  stand-point  in  order  to  give  consolation 
and  edification,  ours  bends  down  to  the  man  imprisoned 
in  sensuality  and  leads  him  upward,  step  by  step,  grad- 
ually removing  him  from  bis  sinful  condition."  He  paused 
and  looked  at  Cornelia,  then  continued :  "  These  blessings 
fell  to  my  lot.  My  heart  also  bled  when  it  tore  itself 


TEE   CATASTROPHE.  271 

away  from  all  the  human  ties  entwined  about  it;  I,  too, 
Cornelia,  have  struggled  until  I  resisted  the  false  allure- 
ments, and  so  spiritualized  myself  that  the  world  became 
dead,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  a  living  thing  to  me." 

11  Oh,"  exclaimed  Cornelia,  "  I  shall  never  bring  my- 
self to  that !  The  world  dead  !  No  longer  love  this  beau- 
tiful earth,  the  master-piece  of  God  !  No.  I  cannot ;  it 
would  be  ungrateful  to  him  who  created  it." 

"I  do  not  ask  that,  my  child;  I  am  not  one  of  those 
bigoted  priests  who  believe  that  men  were  made  only  to 
pray,  that  the  pious  and  chaste  alone  are  the  elect,  and 
the  others  the  mere  wretched  laborers  of  creation,  des- 
tined to  propagate  the  race.  Such  a  thought  is  far  from 
me.  Whomsoever  God  destines  to  be  his  servant  he 
calls  ;  and  let  those  whom  he  does  not  rejoice  in  the 
world  for  which  they  were  born,  and  serve  God  by  doing 
good  in  their  own  sphere.  I  will  only  warn  you  not  to 
forget  the  Giver  in  the  gifts ;  to  remember  the  Dispenser 
while  you  enjoy  his  alms,  is  a  duty  you  children  of  the 
world  so  easily  neglect.  This  I  will  teach  you  to  fulfill, 
and  show  you  that  it  does  not  detract  from  happiness, 
but  hallows  and  strengthens  it.  If  you  had  thought 
more  of  God  when  he  gave  you  Ottmar's  love,  you  would 
have  been  more  discreet,  and  perhaps  matters  would  never 
have  gone  so  far." 

"Ah,  that  is  terribly  true!"  sobbed  Cornelia. 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  child  ;  I  do  not  wish  to  burden  your 
poor  heart  still  more  heavily.  You  were  innocent,  and 
Ottmar's  influence  was  injurious  to  you.  No  mortal  has 
a  right  to  decide  whether  you  would  have  been  able  to 
avoid  this;  I  least  of  all,  for  I  know  Ottmar's  personal 
power.  I,  too,  trusted  him,  and  was  betrayed,  for  he  is 
no  man's  friend,  not  even  his  own  !" 

"  Unhappy  man  !  Created  in  the  image  of  God,  so 
handsome,  so  noble,  so  capable  of  giving  happiness,  and 
yet  a  living  lie,  a  deceitful  phantom,  which  irresistibly 
allures  us,  and,  as  soon  as  we  wish  to  hold  it,  melts  into 
thin  air.  Do  you  understand,  Severinus,  that  one  may 
love  him  with  all  the  strength  of  one's  life,  and  when 
parted  from  him  be  but  a  broken  bough  which  can  do 
nothing  but  xvither?" 


272  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"  I  understand  it,  for  no  other  was  ever  so  dear  to  me. 
I  hoped  to  make  him  an  instrument  for  the  advancement 
of  the  good  cause,  thought  God  had  given  me  in  him  a 
being  to  whom  the  heart  might  still  be  permitted  to  pay 
the  tribute  of  human  feelings,  aided  with  admiration  in 
the  development  of  his  great  talents,  and  nursed  him 
with  tender  anxiety.  I  listened  to  his  breathing  while 
he  slept,  watched  him  like  a  brother,  and  saw  with  de- 
light that  his  health  gradually  improved.  When  he  came 
up  to  me  with  beaming  eyes,  and  said,  •  My  dear  Severi- 
nus,  how  shall  I  thank  you  ?'  my  IK  art  swelled  with 
proud  delight,  and  I  clasped  him  in  my  arms."  lie 
paused,  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  continued, 
in  a  trembling  voice  :  "  And  when  I  was  compelled  to  lose 
him,  such  sorrow  seized  upon  me  that  I  struggled  as  if 
the  foul  fiend  had  possession  of  him  and  I  must  wrest 
Heinrich's  soul  from  his  grasp.  It  was  the  punishment  that 
befell  me  because  my  love  did  not  still  belong  exclusively 
to  Heaven,  as  it  ought.  I  endeavored  to  disarm  his 
malice  against  the  order  as  much  as  possible;  I  had  nur- 
tured the  serpent,  so  it  was  my  duty  to  deprive  it  of  its 
venom,  and  thus  I  was  forced  to  pursue  as  an  enemy  one 
who  had  been  the  dearest  person  on  earth  to  me.  Believe 
me,  my  daughter,  your  tears  are  not  the  only  ones  which 
have  been  shed  for  him." 

Cornelia  seized  Severinus's  hand  with  deep  emotion  ; 
he  rose.  "  I  will  now  leave  you  alone :  you  need  rest. 
Compose  yourself,  and  pray.  I  hope  to  find  you  ready  to 
travel  early  to-morrow  morning,  and  will  consider  to- 
night whither  I  will  guide  you." 

As  Severinus  went  out  into  the  street  he  met  a 
brother-priest,  who  was  just  coming  from  the  Jesuit 
church. 

"  Father  Severinus!"  he  said,  in  astonishment.  "  How 
did  you  come  here?  what  are  you  doing  in  Friiulein 
Erwiug's  house  ?" 

"  I  am  gaining  a  soul  for  the  church  !"  he  answered, 
proudly,  and  passed  on. 


THITHER.  2f3 

XX. 

THITHER. 

THE  minister  of  foreign  affairs  sat  in  his  office  alone. 
Stray,  feeble  rays  from  the  winter  sun  fell  through  the 
window  and  gleamed  upon  a  heap  of  documents  and 
papers  with  huge  seals ;  but  the  minister's  eyes  did  not 
rest  upon  them,  they  were  fixed  absently  on  vacancy. 
From  time  to  time  he  dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink,  only  to 
let  it  fall  again  unused,  upon  a  diplomatic  dispatch 
which  had  just  been  commenced.  At  last  he  started  up 
and  went  to  the  door.  His  figure  was  not  so  elegant, 
nor  his  bearing  so  haughty,  as  in  former  days :  his  hair 
and  beard  were  neglected,  his  eyes  and  cheeks  sunken. 
Was  it  wprk  or  sorrow  that  had  thus  shaken  this  noble 
frame?  He  seemed  aged,  even  ill.  Anton  brought  in 
some  letters,  which  he  hastily  seized,  then  threw  them  all 
but  one  upon  the  table. 

"  God  grant  it  may  be  some  good  news!"  said  Anton, 
casting  a  troubled  glance  at  his  master's  haggard  features 
as  he  left  the  room. 

"  God  grant  it !"  repeated  Heinrich  ;  and  his  breath 
came  quickly  and  anxiously  as  he  read : 

"  YOUR  EXCELLENCY, — In  reply  to  your  highly  esteemed 
favor  of  the  15th,  I  have  the  honor  to  say  that  I  must 
positively  reject  the  denunciation  it  contains  against  our 
reverend  brother  in  Christ,  Father  Severinus:  namely, 
that  without  my  knowledge  he  had  secretly  fled  with  a 
young  and  beautiful  lady,  and  kept  her  concealed  for 
several  months  against  her  will.  Father  Severinus  is  a 
pattern  to  the  whole  order  for  humble  obedience  and  the 
strictest  devotion  to  all.  No  false  appearances  can 
render  his  blameless  and  immovable  purity  suspicious  in 
our  eyes.  His  relation  to  that  lady  is  one  well  pleasing 
to  God  and  the  order,  and  his  course  has  my  entire  ap- 
proval. This  I  must  permit  myself  to  say  in  correction 
of  your  Excellency's  erroneous  suspicion. 

M* 


274  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"I  have  no  right  to  inform  your  Excellency  of  the 
residence  of  Father  Severinus  and  the  lady  in  question 
until  your  Excellency  has  given  us  the  most  satisfactory 
proofs  of  your  right  to  the  possession  of  the  young  lady's 
person. 

"  With  all  due  respect  to  your  Excellency,  etc., 

"  FATHER  R 

"  General  of  the  Holy  Congregation  of  the  Fathers  of 

Jesus. 

"  ROME,  —  20,  18—." 

Heinrich  sank  upon  the  sofa  with  the  pnper  in  his 
hand.  "This  failed  too!  All,  all  in  vain!"  be  mur- 
mured, crushing  the  letter  convulsively  in  his  clinched 
fingers.  "What  is  to  be  done  now  ?  Shall  I  give  notice 
to  the  embassies  of  every  country  ?  Shall  I  add  to  this 
consuming  anguish  the  disgrace  that  I  am  pursuing  an 
adventuress,  who  is  rambling  about  with  a  Jesuit? 
Cornelia!  Cornelia!  Have  these  pious  fathers  or  have 
you  obtained  so  much  mastery  over  yourself  that  you 
can  inflict  this  upon  me?  It  is  not  possible  that  they 
have  subdued  your  free  will.  You  are  not  one  of  those 
natures  which  allow  themselves  to  be  ruled.  You  have 
done  the  most  difficult,  the  most  unprecedented  thing, — 
conquered  me  and  yourself  in  a  moment  when  passion 
was  most  aroused.  You  would  not  suffer  the  arts  of 
these  men  to  obtain  dominion  over  you!.  Noble,  won- 
derful woman  !  By  what  cords  do  you  hold  me  that  I 
will  go  to  utter  ruin  rather  than  forget  you  ?" 

He  rested  bis  head  wearily  upon  bis  hand.  His  whole 
life  passed  before  him.  He  thought  of  all  the  unhappy 
creatures  who  had  clung  to  him  with  the  same  ardor  be 
now  felt  for  Cornelia,  and  been  repulsed  as  be  was  now 
by  her.  Again  Ottilie's  image  rose  before  him.  The 
sorrow  gnawing  at  his  heart  made  him  for  the  first  time 
understand  the  tortures  she  so  silently,  so  patiently,  bore 
for  him,  and  for  the  first  time  he  experienced  the  true 
human  sympathy  he  had  never  felt  while  grief  was  un- 
known to  him.  "  Poor  Ottilie !  We  are  now  companions 
in  suffering !" 

A  low  knocking  roused  him  from  bis  gloomy  thoughts. 


THITHER.  275 

It  was  his  private  secretary,  to  ask  whether  Ottmar  had 

prepared  the  dispatch  for  the  court  of  R .     "  Oh  ! 

good  heavens,  no !"  he  exclaimed,  iu  great  impatience, 
and  sat  down  to  finish  it.  Thrice  he  began,  erased  the 
words,  and  then  flung  the  pen  aside  with  a  sigh  of  the 
bitterest  despondency.  "  I  am  not  in  the  mood,"  he  said, 
at  last.  "My  head  aches  too  violently.  I  cannot  give 
myself  up  to  work  now." 

"  Allow  me  to  remind  your  Excellency  that  you  will 
be  expected  at  the  council  of  ministers  at  twelve 
o'clock,"  said  the  young  man,  timidly. 

"  You  are  right :  thanks  1  Remind  me  of  it  again  at 
eleven." 

With  the  most  painful  effort  of  self-control  he  applied 
himself  to  the  preparation  of  the  document,  and  then 
hurried  away  to  dress. 

"  Your  Excellency  ought  to  get  a  long  leave  of  ab- 
sence," said  Anton,  as  he  assisted  him  to  make  his  toilet. 
"  You  cannot  live  on  so." 

"  Very  likely,  Anton.  It  is  an  existence  which  is  be- 
coming more  and  more  unendurable  to  me.  But  I  cannot 
take  a  leave  now.  I  must  either  disappear  from  the 
scene  entirely  or  remain  at  my  post." 

He  left  the  room  with  a  slow  step  and  drooping  head. 
Anton  looked  after  him  sadly.  "  Poor  master !  It 
must  have  been  bad  news  again.  No  doubt  the  young 
lady  has  good  cause  for  her  acts ;  but  I  pity  him,  for  he 
never  loved  so  before." 

A  few  hours  afterward  the  prince  entered  his  wife's 
apartments.  "My  dear  Ottilie,  I  must  entreat  you  to 
grant  me  a  favor.  You  did  not  wish  to  see  any  one  on 
account  of  your  indisposition,  but  I  beseech  you  to  make 
one  exception." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  Alfred,"  said  Ottilie,  in  a 
faint  voice. 

She  was  reclining  upon  a  couch  under  an  arbor  of 
dense  exotic  plants,  which  made  one  forget  the  cold, 
wintry  landscape  without.  The  prince  took  a  chair  and 
sat  down  beside  her.  "  The  matter  concerns  Ottmar," 
he  began,  breaking  a  withered  leaf  from  a  gum-tree,  and 
thus  not  observing  how  Ottilie  started.  "  I  do  not  know 


276  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

what  I  am  to  do  with  the  man.  Something  is  wrong 
with  him  ;  I  cannot  discover  what.  He  seems  entirely 
changed.  The  youngest  attache  could  not  make  so  many 
diplomatic  blunders  as  be.  He  brought  to  the  council 

to-day  the  rough  sketch  of  a  dispatch  to  R ,  which 

was  totally  useless.  He,  our  most  talented  statesman  ! 
It  is  incomprehensible!  He  is  apathetic  and  reserved; 
uay,  he  even  permits  himself  to  fail  in  the  personal  re- 
spect which,  as  his  prince,  I  am  entitled  to  demand,  and 
whose  punctilious  observance  has  hitherto  endeared  him 
to  me.  I  do  not  think  this  proceeds  from  any  diminution 
in  his  loyalty, — he  has  so  often  assured  me  that  I  was 
his  only  friend, — but  is  the  result  of  some  secret  disturb- 
ance, some  physical  or  mental  suffering.  All  my  efforts 
to  obtain  his  confidence  are  fruitless,  so  I  thought,  of 
applying  to  my  charming  wife  and  calling  her  to  my  aid 
in  this,  to  me,  very  important  affair." 

"  But  how  can  I  be  of  any  assistance  ?"  asked  Ottilie, 
in  astonishment. 

"You  shall  speak  to  him,  my  dear.  You  are  mistress 
of  the  art  of  assuming  a  condescending  manner  which 
induces  people  to  give  their  confidence  freely  without 
forgetting  in  whose  presence  they  stand.  I  confess  that 
in  this  respect  you  far  surpass  me.  You  remove  my 
subjects'  awe  of  the  grandeur  of  your  position,  and  sub- 
stitute reverence  for  your  person.  Thus  you  succeed  in 
being  affable  without  forfeiting  any  portion  of  your  dig- 
nity, and  people  open  their  hearts  to  you  without  over- 
stepping the  bounds  prescribed  by  etiquette.  It  is  a 
great  art,  for  which  not  only  intellect  and  heart,  tout  the 
unusual  queenliuess  of  air  that  distinguishes  you,  are 
requisite." 

"  But  it  is  an  'art'  which,  at  all  events,  I  practice  very 
unconsciously,"  interposed  Ottilie,  smiling.  "Yet  I 
thank  you,  Alfred,  for  this  praise;  it  makes  me  very 
proud.  And  now  I  shall  try  to  earn  it  by  attempting  to 
prove  my  skill  upon  Ottmar." 

"There  is  no  praise  you  have  not  already  fully  earned. 
But  I  will  beg  you  to  subdue  this  reserved  diplomat  with 
your — if  I  may  so  call  it — diplomacy  of  the  heart,  and 
discover  what  is  really  the  matter  with  him." 


THITHER.  277 

"  But  have  we  a  right  to  interfere,  ray  prince  ?" 

"  It  is  not  only  a  right,  but  a  duty.  If  he  merely 
neglected  me,  I  would  ignore  it ;  but  he  neglects  the 
obligations  of  his  high  position,  and  thereby  injures  the 
interests  he  ought  to  defend.  This  cannot  continue,  so 
we  must  discover  the  cause  of  Ott mar's  trouble  and  try 

to  remove  it.  If  this  does  not  succeed,  then "  The 

prince  rose  with  the  shrug  of  the  shoulders  he  always 
used  to  express  what  was  not  yet  sufficiently  decided  to 
put  into  words.  "  At  the  present  critical  moment,  when 
everything  is  crowding  upon  us,  we  need  men  who  are 
thoroughly  in  earnest,  and  will  hold  the  reins  with  a 
firm  hand,"  said  he,  continuing  his  interrupted  chain  of 
ideas.  "  It  is  no  time  for  personal  considerations  and 
indulgent  delays.  Every  moment  brings  and  demands 
important  decisions,  which  should  not  be  permitted  to 
suffer  from  the  absence  of  mind  of  any  individual. 
There  must  be  a  change  soon.  I  cannot  lecture  him  like 
a  school-boy,  but  you  can  say  many  things  as  a  proof  of 
friendly  sympathy,  which,  from  my  lips,  would  sound  like 
an  implied  reproach." 

"I  will  try;  although  I  do  not  expect  much  from  the 
interview.  I  can  scarcely  flatter  myself  that  I  shall  be 
able  to  win  from  him  what  he  withholds  from  you,  and 
perhaps  the  secret  may  be  of  such  a  nature  that  he  can- 
not confide  it  to  us.  Perhaps — he  has  some  love-sorrow." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  !  Would  a  polished  man  of  the  world, 
a  thorough  diplomat,  give  himself  up  to  such  sentiment- 
ality ?" 

The  glance  that  Ottilie  cast  at  the  prince  had  a  shade 
of  compassionate  contempt.  "You  call  it  sentimentality 
because  you  have  never  felt  the  power  of  a  passionate 
emotion.  You  must  consider  that  the  moderation  in- 
culcated into  the  minds  of  royal  personages,  that  they 
may  be  able  to  rule  themselves  and  others,  is  an  almost 
exclusive  prerogative  of  their  rank,  which  no  one  else 
shares " 

"Except  the  priests,"  interposed  the  prince. 

"  You  are  right.  But  Ottmar  does  not  belong  to  that 
class,  but  to  one  of  great  privileges  and  few  duties,  who 
are  accustomed  to  drop  the  reins  of  self-control ;  and 

24 


278  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

these  men  often  lack  all  support  against  their  passions.  I 
h;ive  already  told  you  that  I  do  not  consider  Ottmar  a 
genuine  diplomat.  He  has  talent,  and  will  therefore  for 
a  time  skillfully  accomplish  whatever  he  undertakes,  but 
he  is  far  too  great  an  enthusiast  to  be  a  good  statesman. 
For  this  he  lacks  calmness,  firmness  of  conviction,  per- 
severance in  labor,  and  sooner  or  later  the  contradiction 
between  his  nature  and  his  profession  must  appear." 

"  Lord  C made  the  same  remark  about  him  several 

years  ago.  Your  knowledge  of  human  nature  shows  it- 
self more  and  more,  and  I  daily  perceive  with  gratitude 
what  wise  counsels  I  am  always  sure  of  receiving  from 
you.  Then  you  will  make  the  sacrifice  for  me,  and  speak 
to  Ottmar  ?" 

"  I  should  be  deserving  of  great  blame  if  I  refused  my 
husband's  request.  Under  what  pretext  do  you  wish  the 
interview  to  take  place?" 

"  I  think  we  will  give  a  family  dinner  to-morrow,  and 
invite  him  to  it.  Do  you  feel  well  enough  for  such  an 
effort?  In  my  opinion,  it  would  be  the  most  fitting  op- 
portunity." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  and  think  my  strength  will  enable 
me  to  do  the  honors." 

"  I  thank  you  in  advance,  my  dearest,  and  hope  I  have 
not  imposed  any  very  disagreeable  task  upon  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  so  rarely  have  the  happiness  of 
being  permitted  to  do  you  a  favor,  that  I " 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  so ;  your  whole  life  is  a  succession 
of  kindnesses  and  self-sacrificing  amiability  towards  me. 
How  ignoble  it  would  be  for  me  to  require  more  than  you 
voluntarily  bestow  I  Pray  take  care  of  yourself;  the 
anxiety  you  feel  is  felt  for  me.  Au  revoir."  He  pressed 
a  hasty  kiss  upon  Ottilie's  small  white  hand  and  left  the 
room. 

Ottilie  looked  after  him  quietly.  Not  a  feature  in  her 
pale  face  altered.  She  gratefully  perceived  that  the  prince 
tried  to  give  her  at  least  civility,  even  deference,  instead 
of  love.  She  had  never  asked  more ;  and  now  it  was 
easier  than  ever  to  resign  it.  She  was  no  longer  solitary, 
the  life  that  stirred  under  her  heart  filled  her  with  bliss- 
ful promises  of  an  infinite  love  never  known  before.  This 


THITHER.  279 

new  and  cheering  emotion  aided  her  to  bear  more  reso- 
lutely than  before  even  the  thought  of  being  again  thrown 
into  Ottmar's  society.  The  outward  world  passed  by  her 
like  a  dream  :  there  was  but  one  reality  to  her, — the  ap- 
proaching fulfillment  of  her  mission  as  a  woman;  all  her 
powers  were  exerted  for  this  great  end,  and  peace  brooded 
over  her  soul. 

Thus,  on  the  following  day,  she  met  Ottmar.  The 
strength  of  her  soul  conquered  her  physical  weakness  ; 
and  when  the  dinner  was  over  and  the  prince  was  con- 
versing with  the  other  guests,  she  calmly  approached 
Ottmar  with  an  air  of  quiet  dignity. 

"  The  prince  has  commissioned  me  to  speak  to  you, 
count,"  she  whispered,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  His  Highness  ?"  asked  Heinrich,  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  do  not  do  so  in  his  name,  but  my  own. 
We  are  anxious  about  you,  for  we  both  see  that  you  are 
suffering.  Your  manner  reveals  it  to  me,  while  he  no- 
tices the  change  by  the  decreasing  interest  you  take  in 
your  business." 

"I  know  it!"  exclaimed  Heinrich. 

"  He  now  wishes  to  obtain  some  explanation  through 
me;  he  hopes  you  will  be  more  open  than  with  him; 
but  fear  nothing,  I  shall  not  degrade  myself  to  become  a 
spy  upon  you;  nor  should  I  need  to  do  so,  for  I  know  the 
cause  of  your  anguish,  and  shall  guard  it  as  a  sacred 
secret.  Yet  I  consented  to  the  conversation  the  prince 
desired  because  I  believed  the  wish  to  be  a  sign  from 
God.  Besides,  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  once  more  about 
some  of  the  last  events  in  your  life  ;  perhaps  I  may 
finally  produce  some  good  result." 

Heinrich  gazed  at  her  in  the  greatest  astonishment. 

"  Will  you  permit  a  friend  of  many  years'  standing  to 
meddle  with  your  secrets  ?  Will  you  trust  me  ?"  she 
asked,  with  all  her  former  winning  grace. 

"  Oh,  my  princess  !"  cried  Heinrich,  in  delight.  "How 
long  it  is  since  you  have  bestowed  any  such  words 
upon  me  !  how  vour  returning  favor  soothes  and  cheers 
me  !" 

"  God  is  my  witness  that  my  favor  was  never  with- 
drawn from  you,  count."  She  raised  her  sparkling  blue 


280  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

eyes,  and  her  lips  parted  to  say  more  ;  then  she  recol- 
lected herself:  her  lids  drooped  again,  and  she  wns  silent. 
After  a  pause  she  began,  in  an  altered  tone,  "  The  prince 
wishes  through  me  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  change  in 
you,  that  he  may  help  you;  but  I  can  aid  you  without 
,  telling  him  your  secret,  and  thus  save  both,  and  betray 
no  one.  Is  that  right?" 

"Perfectly!  But,  my  beloved,  noble  princess,  how 
can  you  help  me  ?" 

"  You  have  been  deserted  by  the  young  girl  you  loved. 
Is  it  not  so?" 

"  Yes,  yes ;  but  how  do  you  know  ?" 

"  The  unhappy  fate  that  has  come  between  you  is  a 
secret  to  me,  and  one  I  do  not  wish  to  fathom.  The 
fault,  my  friend, — pardon  my  usual  frankness, — must  be 
with  you;  for  I  know  her,  and  will  answer  for  it  that  you 
were  loved  with  a  rare,  pure,  and  fervent  affection." 

"  Oh,  your  Highness,  you  cut  me  to  the  heart !" 

<:  I  must  do  so,  count,  if  I  am  to  be  of  use  to  you  ;  and 
this  is  the  only  occasion  upon  which  I  can.  That  you 
love  Cornelia  Erwing  with  the  first  real  passion  of  your 
life  I  see  by  the  deep  sorrow  expressed  in  your  outward 
appearance,  as  well  as  your  acts  and  conduct;  and  I  hail 
this  mood  with  joy,  count,  as  the  gloomy  twilight  which 
precedes  the  dawn  of  a  new  day." 

"  Princess,  you  do  not  know  what  I  suffer.  If  I  ever 
sinned  against  a  noble  heart,  I  am  now  making  bitter 
atonement.  Pity  me;  do  not  triumph  in  my  anguish." 

"  Oh,  how  greatly  you  misunderstand  me,  count !  I 
triumph  in  your  anguish  !  May  God  keep  me  from  such 
a  thought  1  I  rejoice  because  your  sorrows  are  a  proof 
of  a  salutary  change  in  your  heart!  I  rejoice  that  you 
love  deeply,  truly,  sadly;  because  I  hope  to  be  able  to 
restore  that  to  which  your  heart  clings  so  loyally  !" 

"  Could  you  do  so,  your  Highness?"  whispered  Hein- 
rich,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  new  life. 

"  Cornelia  Erwing  conceals  her  residence  from  you. 
Have  you  searched  for  her  ?" 

"  I  have  summoned  the  police  of  the  whole  country  to 
my  aid,  left  no  means  untried,  but  all  in  vain." 

"Why  did  you  do  that?" 


THITHER.  281 

"Why?"  asked  Ottmar,  in  astonishment.  "  Because  I 
wished  to  win  her,  to  have  her  again." 

"  And  will  you  permit  me  to  ask  one  more  bold  ques- 
tion ?  If  you  did  succeed  in  winning  her  again,  what 
would  be  her  fate?" 

Ottmar  drew  back  a  step  in  astonishment  and  looked 
doubtfully  at  Ottilie.  Should  he  tell  her  ?  was  she  strong 
enough  to  hear  it?  should  he  confess  the  resolution 
which,  during  months  of  agony  and  exhausting  struggle* 
had  obtained  such  a  powerful  influence  over  him  that  it 
governed  his  whole  character  and  conduct  ? 

"  Would  you  make  Cornelia  Erwing  your  wife  ?" 

"  Your  Highness  !" 

"  If  this  is  the  case,  I  am  ready,  on  my  own  responsi- 
bility, to  tell  you  her  present  residence." 

"  Noble,  royal  soul!"  murmured  Ottmar,  involuntarily. 
"  Well,  then,  yes.  Learn  what  no  one  else  respects,  that 
I,  whom  you  have  so  often  reproached  for  my  heartless- 
ness,  am  subdued  by  a  passion  stronger  than  my  selfish- 
ness, stronger  than  everything,  for  I  feel  I  could  give  up 
my  life  rather  than  this  girl,  who  has  become  so  great  a 
necessity  to  my  mind  and  heart.  For  weeks  a  letter  im- 
ploring her  hand  has  been  lying  in  my  portfolio,  but  I 
can  find  no  means  of  sending  it  to  her,  and  am  almost  in 
despair.  Have  compassion  upon  me.  If  you — ever" — 
he  hesitated — "  ever  felt  for  any  one  what  I  now  feel  for 
this  cruel  girl,  you  will  know  how  heavily  I  am  pun- 
ished." 

Ottilie  would  gladly  have  extended  her  hand  to  him  ; 
but  etiquette  must  not  be  offended  in  the  prince's  pres- 
ence. She  turned,  so  that  the  rest  of  the  company  could 
not  see  her  face,  and  looked  at  Heinrich  with  an  inex- 
pressibly loving  expression.  The  old  melancholy,  yet 
happy,  smile  played  around  her  lips,  while  tear  after  tetir 
rolled  down  her  pale  cheeks. 

"  You  see,  my  dear,  dear  friend,  I  can  really  do  some- 
thing for  you.  Cornelia  is  now  living  in  Rome,  and  as 
soon  as  the  company  have  been  dismissed  I  will  send 
you  her  address." 

"  Oh,  God,  how  do  I  deserve  the  favor  of  such  a 
woman  ?  Your  Highness,  how  shall  I  thank  you  ?" 

24* 


282  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"  Make  Cornelia  Erwing  happy  ;  this  is  the  best  grati- 
tude I  can  ask,  for  it  will  be  the  warrant  of  your  own 
welfare." 

"  Ah,  if  I  might  fall  at  your  feet  and  kiss  the  hem  of 
your  garments!  No,  you  are  no  creature  of  earth  1" 

Ottilie  involuntarily  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  heart, 
and  thought,  "  Who  knows  how  soon  he  may  be  right !" 

'  Do  you  believe  I  can  succeed  in  moving  the  heart  of 
th  s  wonderful,  resolute  girl  ?"  asked  Heinrich. 

'  Certainly,  for  I  am  sure  Cornelia  still  loves  you." 

'  Did  she  tell  you  so  in  her  letter  ?" 

'  No ;  but  I  know  how  you  were  beloved,  and  there- 
fore cannot  be  forgotten.  Besides,  she  only  wrote  to  me 
once  that  I  might  know  what  had  become  of  her,  if  I 
should  send  for  her  and  bear  she  had  gone  away.  She 
lamented  that  an  unfortunate  misunderstanding  compelled 
her  to  part  from  you,  and  begged  me  to  preserve  the 
strictest  silence  in  regard  to  her  residence  that  you  might 
not  be  able  to  take  any  steps  to  shake  this  resolution, 
which  was  necessary  for  the  sake  of  both.  I  gave  the 
promise  and  suid  nothing;  but  now  I  should  think  it 
wrong  if  I  did  not  contribute,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  to  re- 
unite two  such  hearts.  I  had  long  doubted  whether  any 
such  woman  as  you  need  existed ;  but  I  recognized  Cor- 
nelia as  the  person  whom,  in  imagination,  I  had  destined 
for  you  ;  therefore  she  must  belong  to  you.  Do  you 
remember  the  evening  I  predicted  that  you  would  feel  a 
new,  great  love?  It  has  now  entered  your  heart,  and,  by 
the  goodness  of  God,  I  am  permitted  to  show  you  the 
way  to  the  woman  in  whom  the  happiness  of  your  life 
will  bloom.  My  prophecy  is  fulfilled,  my  mission  to 
watch  over  your  salvation  completed."  Tears  again 
glittered  in  her  eyes  as  she  uttered  the  words,  "May 
blessing  and  peace  be  with  you  both  !  Farewell." 

As  soon  as  the  prince  saw  Ottilie's  farewell  bow,  he 
approached  Heinrich,  and,  after  doing  the  honors  to  the 
company  a  short  time  longer,  the  noble  pair  withdrew. 
The  prince  supported  his  wife  with  a  strong  arm,  for  she 
tottered  as  she  left  the  room. 

Ottmar  had  scarcely  reached  home  when  Ottilie's 
groom  of  the  chambers  brought  him  a  sealed  envelope. 


THITHER.  283 

It  contained  Cornelia's  address,  written  with  an  unsteady 
hand. 

Heinricli  immediately  sent  a  proposal  of  marriage  to 
Cornelia,  overflowing  with  the  ardor  of  unrestrained  pas- 
sion and  the  most  sincere,  humble  repentance.  Great  as 
was  his  sense  of  what  he  had  lost  in  her,  it  was  equaled 
by  his  self-accusation,  his  impetuous  pleading  for  her  par- 
don, her  hand  ;  and  the  whole  letter  bore  the  impress  of 
spiritual  purification  and  bitter,  heart-felt  remorse.  A 
few  days  after  Cornelia's  answer  arrived. 

"ROME,  February,  18 — . 

"  You  ask  for  my  hand,  Heinrich.  I  have  read  the 
words  with  tears  of  grateful  surprise.  You  bear  a  beau- 
tiful and  noble  testimony,  both  to  yourself  and  me ;  and 
in  spirit  I  fall  upon  my  knees  before  you,  and  implore 
your  pardon  for  the  reproaches  and  upbraidings  hurled 
at  your  dear  head  on  that  terrible  evening  of  our  parting. 
Your  letter  reveals  all  the  wealth  of  your  deep  heart,  and 
shows  me  that  you  undervalued  yourself  when  you  wished 
to  commit  a  deed  so  unworthy  of  you.  Forgive  me  that 
I  too  then  believed  you  worse  than  you  are.  I  thank  God 
for  the  merciful  kindness  with  which  he  restored  my 
only  treasure,  esteem  for  you  ;  for  nothing  humiliates  a 
woman  more  deeply  than  to  feel  an  affection  for  a  man 
she  must  despise.  I  frankly  confess,  Heinrich,  that  I 
could  not  cease  to  love  you,  even  for  a  moment,  that  I 
was  torn  by  the  most  torturing  struggle  between  my 
heart  and  my  consciousness  of  right.  Now,  since  I  have 
received  your  letter  and  know  you  deserve  my  love,  I  am 
once  more  at  peace  with  myself.  I  write  this  that  you 
may  not  think  me  prompted  by  anger  or  bitterness  when 
I  refuse  your  hand.  My  eyes  grow  dim  at  the  sight  of 
these  cruel  words,  the  fingers  that  guide  the  pen  are  para- 
lyzed ;  I  must  pause  a  moment  and  collect  my  thoughts. 

"I  cannot  become  your  wife  after  what  has  passed 
between  us, — I  dare  not.  You  have  wounded  my  womanly 
honor  too  deeply,  shown  with  too  little  consideration 
what  a  great  sacrifice  you  would  make  if  you  raised  me 
to  the  position  of  your  wife,  for  me  to  be  able  to  recon- 


284  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

cile  my  conscience  or  my  pride  to  its  acceptance.  I  can- 
not belong  to  a  man  who  found  me  in  a  station  so  far 
below  him  that  he  thought  he  could  degrade  me  to  the 
lowest  ignominy ;  although  a  nobler  emotion  or  an  un- 
conquerable affection  afterwards  leads  him  to  atoue  for 
the  wrong.  I  should  always  fear  that,  according  to  the 
opinions  you  have  often  declared,  you  would  consider 
your  marriage  with  me  a  mesalliance.  Besides,  you  have 
described  my  position  as  the  plebeian  wife  of  Count 
Ottmar  too  clearly  and  distinctly  for  me  not  to  shrink 
from  the  picture  with  dread  and  horror ;  while  even  if  I 
could  myself  suffer  the  humiliations  the  pride  of  your 
aristocratic  circle  would  prepare,  I  could  not  bear  that 
you,  as  my  husband,  should  be  compelled  to  share  them 
with  me;  for  even  if  your  love  at  first  helped  you  to 
endure  them,  they  would  only  too  soon  stifle  it.  There 
would  be  a  perpetual  conflict  between  your  heart  and 
the  prejudices  the  world  in  which  you  live  has  stamped 
upon  you.  This  must  banish  peace  from  your  breast, 
and  sooner  or  later  make  you  as  miserable  as  before. 
Love  would  yield,  and  prejudice  conquer,  for  society 
would  neglect  no  opportunity  of  bringing  new  and  painful 
proofs  of  the  justice  of  its  views  before  your  eyes,  and  then 
what  would  be  left  me  in  return  for  all  the  humiliations 
I  had  suffered  ?  Your  scorn  1  Oh,  I  was  foolish  ever  to 
permit  myself  to  be  so  blinded  as  to  believe  that  happi- 
ness for  yourself  or  me  could  ever  be  expected  to  result 
from  a  marriage  with  Count  Ottmar!  The  extent  of  my 
folly  you  first  taught  me  to  know  in  that  hour  of  agony. 
Do  not  rebuke  the  application  I  have  made  of  your  lessons 
as  exaggerated.  It  might,  perhaps,  be  so  in  regard  to  a 
man  who  stood  further  above  the  views  and  demands  of 
a  narrow-minded  circle  than  you.  But  with  you,  Heiu- 
rich,  it  is  the  direct  result  of  your  whole  character.  You 
are  far  too  much  fettered  by  the  ideas  of  those,  who  sur- 
round you,  cling  too  closely  to  the  false  lustre  of  brilliant 
positions,  accidental  aristocratic  prerogatives,  and  per- 
sonal distinction,  to  long  retain  your  love  for  a  woman 
who  would  constantly  inflict  the  most  painful  wounds 
upon  your  aristocratic  vanity.  Believe  me,  love  has  no 
worse  enemy  than  doubt  of  the  equality  of  its  chosen 


THITHER.  285 

object;  and  even  if  you  thought  me  worthy  of  you  in 
intellect,  the  inferiority  of  my  birth,  and  the  want  of 
esteem  shown  by  society,  would  weigh  heavily  against 
me.  You  must  become  another  man  for  me  to  accept 
your  hand;  and — forgive  me  if  I  am  harsh — your  letter 
gave  me  no  proof  of  this,  although  it  revealed  a  depth  of 
feeling  for  which,  since  our  separation,  I  had  not  given 
you  credit.  But  you  are  and  will  remain  the  minister, 
Count  Ottmar,  the  court  favorite;  I  can  only  make  him 
unhappy,  as  he  would  me.  If  you  were  once  more  your- 
self, Heinrich  von  Ottmar,  my  Heinrich,  who  has  nothing 
in  common  with  that  unprincipled  aristocracy, — if  you 
openly  acknowledged  what  I  taught  you,  what  I  believe 
requisite  to  true  manly  dignity  and  greatness, — then,  then 
you  should  learn  how  I  love  you.  Count  Ottmar,  who 
wished  to  inflict  such  disgrace  upon  me,  I  do  not  love, 
and  have  sworn  never  to  marry.  Farewell !  For  your 
happiness  and  my  own  I  must  avoid  you,  and  leave  it  to 
God  whether  and  how  he  will  dispose  your  heart  towards 
me.  If  your  love  is  more  than  the  obstinacy  of  a  passion 
irritated  by  resistance,  it  will  unite  with  your  better  self 
and  make  you  a  new  man,  will  remove  from  our  path  the 
obstacles  that  separate  us,  and  upon  the  open  way  will 
find  me  once  more  ;  of  that  you  may  be  assured.  But  if 
it  has  not  the  strength  to  do  all  this,  it  would  in  the  end 
only  make  both  you  and  myself  miserable, — thrice  as 
miserable  as  we  are  now. 

"  When  you  receive  this  letter,  I  shall  have  left  Rome 
for  another  place  of  residence.  Do  not  try  to  seek  me  : 
you  will  not  find  me.  Do  not  call  me  '  cruel' ;  in  these 
lines  you  see  only  the  victory  I  have  obtained  over 
myself,  but  not  my  anguish,  my  tears.  Beloved,  I  extend 
my  arms  to  you,  and  would  fain  press  you  to  my  aching 
heart,  but  only  the  cold  phantom  of  womanly  duty  and 
honor  bends  toward  me,  and  breathes  an  icy  kiss  on  my 
burning  lips.  Oh,  it  is  hard  to  be  cast  off  by  one  you 
love,  and  compelled  to  renounce  your  most  ardent  desire  ! 
But,  Heinrich,  it  is  still  harder  to  reject  him  yourself,  and 
voluntarily  resign  that  for  which  you  long.  These, 
Heinrich,  are  superhuman  victories,  and  they  strip  all 
blossoms  of  youth  from  the  heart ;  but  it  is  better  to  lose 


286  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

them  than  reap  the  envenomed  fruit  of  eternal  remorse. 
May  God  keep  his  gentle,  fatherly  hand  over  you  1  He 
can  still  lead  you  to  happiness,  and  he  alone. 

"  CORNELIA  ERWINQ." 

It  was  morning  when  Eeinrich  read  and  re-read  this 
letter,  until  a  sorrow  never  imagined  before  made  the 
words  swim  before  his  eyes,  and  lay  like  a  weight  upon 
his  chest,  until,  with  a  half-stifled  cry  of  agony,  he  bent 
his  head  upon  the  sheet  lying  before  him.  He  started 
as  if  bewildered,  when  Anton  suddenly  appeared,  and 
informed  him  that  a  message  had  come,  summoning  him 
to  go  to  the  palace  as  soon  as  possible. 

A  few  hours  after,  the  bells  rang,  the  cannon  thundered, 
and  the  populace  shouted  with  joy,  for  in  the  palace  a 
new-born  child,  a  prince,  lay  in  a  golden  cradle.  The 
hope  of  the  country,  whose  fulfillment  slumbered  in  that 
little  heart,  stood  by  its  side  uttering  a  benediction,  and 
the  promise  of  a  great  future  encircled  the  baby  brow  with 
an  invisible  crown. 

But  beside  him  a  precious  life  was  struggling  silently 
and  uncomplainingly  with  death.  Ottilie  had  fulfilled 
her  last  and  highest  task,  but  it  had  exhausted  the  rem- 
nant of  her  strength.  She  felt  that  her  pulse  had  but  a 
few  more  throbs,  her  breast  would  rise  and  fall  only  a 
few  more  times,  and,  gazing  gently  and  submissively 
around  the  circle,  said,  imploringly,  "  Give  me  my  son," 
— took  him  from  the  arms  of  the  prince  and  pressed  him 
closely  to  her  heart.  "Oh,  God!  what  do  I  need  ni<>re 
than  the  happiness  of  this  moment  ?"  Yet  a  tear  fell 
from  her  glazing  eyes  as  she  kissed  the  little  one  and 
softly  whispered,  "  You  are  so  sweet,  so  dear!  Oh,  it 
must  be  an  immeasurable  delight  to  cradle  such  a  child  in 
one's  arms,  protect,  foster,  and  watch  the  awakening  of  its 
slumbering  powers  !  It  is  not  allotted  to  me.  I  must 
leave  you  and  give  you  up  to  your  father.  May  bis  soul 
open  itself  to  you!  may  you  become  the  innocent  me- 
diator between  him  and  his  poor  people  !"  She  pressed 
the  boy  more  and  more  feebly  to  her  breast.  "  Farewell ! 
it  grieves  me  to  leave  you, — grieves  me  deeply.  Yours 
was  the  only  heart  on  which  I  relied.  But  I  will  not 


SPRING  STORMS.  287 

complain.  I  have  borne  you, — this,  too,  is  a  mercy  from 
God,  and  with  a  kiss  upon  your  rosy  lips  it  is  sweet  to  die." 
The  child  fell  from  her  arms,  and  her  head  sank  back. 

"  She  is  asleep,"  said  the  prince,  dismissing  the  by- 
standers, that  he  might  not  be  compelled  to  show  any 
grief. 

That  evening  the  bells  rang  out  another  peal,  and  thou- 
sands wept  aloud  under  the  brilliantly-lighted  windows 
of  the  palace,  for  behind  them,  on  a  black-draped  bed  of 
state,  lay  the  beautiful  corpse  of  the  princess,  and  her 
people's  love  stretched  its  arms  towards  her  in  vain. 
With  her  the  last  bond  that  bound  the  sympathies  of  the 
masses  to  the  throne  was  sundered,  and  in  the  child-like 
ideas  of  the  nation,  Ottilie's  glorified  spirit  rose  from 
her  death-bed  as  that  of  a  saint,  a  martyr,  who  had 
vainly  struggled  and  suffered  to  the  end.  She  hovered 
above  the  mourning  country  in  a  halo  of  glory  and  grief, 
and  despair  transformed  the  angel  of  peace  into  a  goddess 
of  freedom,  who  with  a  mighty  power  revealed  to  their 
oppressed  hearts  the  consciousness  of  their  crushed 
rights. 


XXI. 

SPRING   STORMS. 

THE  political  atmosphere  constantly  grew  darker  and 
more  threatening.  Throngs  of  people  had  streamed  from 
all  the  provinces  to  attend  Ottilie's  funeral,  all  with  the 
same  sorrow,  the  same  rancor ;  and,  after  the  obsequies 
were  over,  they  assembled  for  consultations  of  the  most 
serious  nature,  and  these  consultations  resulted  in  reso- 
lutions. Unions  were  formed  and  dissolved,  deputations 
sent  and  dismissed,  the  press  rose  and  was  suppressed. 
The  evidences  of  the  advancing  movement  became  more 
and  more  decided,  the  measures  of  the  government  yet 
more  stringent. 

Suddenly  a  shout  rang  through  the  whole  country. 


288  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  Count  Ottmar  has  formed  an  opposition  in  the  ministry ! 
Count  Ottmar  has  declared  for  the  constitution  !"  The 
news  ran  like  wildfire.  Ottmar,  who  had  been  so  long 
hated  as  the  enemy  of  all  progress,  the  powerful  favorite 
of  the  prince,  suddenly  threw  influence,  position,  and 
authority  into  the  wavering  scale,  and  acknowledged 
before  the  world  the  cause  against  which  he  had  so  long 
battled.  No  one  took  time  to  question  the  motive  of  this 
sudden  change  ;  enough  that  it  was  so,  it  was  help  in  the 
hour  of  the  utmost  need  ;  and  new  courage  animated  the 
elastic  minds  of  the  people.  Ottmar  was  now  the  centre 
of  universal  attention  ;  the  last  hope  was  bound  up  in  him. 
This  consciousness  gave  him  a  dignity  which  pervaded 
his  whole  character.  He  was  once  more  the  old  Ottmar, 
who  strode  on  haughtily  erect,  in  triumph  ;  but  another 
and  a  nobler  triumph  was  now  depicted  in  his  sparkling 
eyes,  his  lofty  bearing ;  it  was  not  the  victory  of  subtle 
arts  over  the  hearts  of  feeble  women,  credulous  princes, 
and  less  gifted  diplomats;  but  the  conquest  of  a  manly 
action  upon  minds,  and  the  pride  of  an  honest  purpose  in 
lieu  of  treacherous  fascinations. 

He  was  animated  with  new  life.  The  conflict  between 
his  principles  and  his  course  of  action,  as  well  as  that  be- 
tween his  love  and  his  career,  which  Cornelia  so  greatly 
feared,  had  arisen  ;  and  although  the  first  impulse  to  his 
new  deeds,  as  in  the  case  of  Albert's  liberation,  had  been 
merely  the  selfish  desire  to  enter  the  path  upon  which  he 
might  hope  to  find  Cornelia,  he  again  felt  with  great 
satisfaction  the  blessing  of  his  good  action. 

There  is  scarcely  any  soil  more  favorable  for  the  efforts 
of  man  than  to  represent  a  nation,  be  it  in  whatever  form 
it  may,  none  in  which  the  noblest  and  purest  philanthropy 
can  be  better  developed ;  but  there  is  also  none  from 
which  personal  vanity  reaps  a  more  abundant  harvest. 
Cornelia  knew  this,  and  therefore  had  sought  to  lead 
Ottmar  into  this  career.  Vanity  was  the  tie  by  which 
she  endeavored  to  unite  the  egotist  to  a  great  cause, 
until  its  own  nature  could  enter  into  him  and  raise  him 
above  himself.  The  moment  bad  now  arrived  when  her 
expectation  began  to  prove  itself  correct.  Heinrich 
found  himself  obtaining  an  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the 


SPRING   STORMS.  289 

whole  country,  which  he  had  hitherto  possessed  only 
within  the  narrow  circle  of  the  court, ;  saw  himself  be- 
loved where  he  had  formerly  been  hated;  surrounded 
with  shouts  of  joy,  instead  of  having  men  shrink  from 
him  in  fear,  and  he  would  have  been  unnatural  if  it  had 
not  both  flattered  him  and  stirred  the  silent  chords  of 
benevolence  within  him.  Thus  the  way  was  opened 
which  he  must  follow  if  his  opposition  in  the  ministry 
succumbed,  and  he  sacrificed  the  portfolio  to  his  new 
confession  of  faith. 

"  Cornelia,  wonderful  woman,  what  have  you  made 
me  ?"  he  said  to  himself  a  hundred  times,  while  his 
breast  heaved  with  a  sigh  of  longing.  He  pressed  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  which  he  felt  more  and  more  to  be  the 
centre  of  gravity  of  his  nature;  where  the  head  whose 
lofty  ideas  had  given  him  new  life  had  so  often  rested 
and  thought.  "When  shall  I  hide  you  here  again? 
When,  after  all  these  tumultuous  conflicts,  shall  I  hold 
quiet,  blissful  intercourse  with  you?  When  will  your 
sparkling  eyes  rest  lovingly  upon  me,  and  say,  'I  am 
satisfied  with  you,  Heinrich  '  ?" 

Weeks  elapsed,  and  the  people  still  hoped,  while  Ottmar 
saw  the  catastrophe  he  expected  approach  nearer  and 
nearer, — for  he  knew  the  situation  of  affairs  too  well  to 
believe  for  a  moment  that  his  opposition  would  effect 
anything  more  than  to  give  him  the  confidence  he  needed 
for  his  new  career,  and  make  his  change  of  opinion  easier. 
He  was  not  mistaken.  From  the  moment  he  acknowl- 
edged his  real  views  he  was  excluded  from  all  personal 
intercourse  with  the  prince,  and  the  majority  in  the 
ministry  was  against  him.  The  prince,  calm  and  im- 
movable in  his  convictions,  did  not  suspect  that  in  Ott- 
mar alone  lay  the  pledge  of  his  security;  his  eyes,  which 
were  constantly  gazing  into  the  obscurity  of  a  long- 
buried  past,  did  not  perceive  the  feeling  of  the  nation 
which  had  assembled  menacingly  about  the  liberal  min- 
ister. But  Ottmar  felt  this  invisible  power  hovering 
around  his  brow  with  whispers  of  promise,  and  knew 
that  he  was  the  real  ruler  of  the  moment;  for  with  him 
fell  the  last  barrier  th,at  withheld  the  rising  flood  from 
the  steps  of  the  throne,  and  with  a  proud  smile  he  at 
N  25 


290  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

last  bailed  his  overthrow  in  the  ministry  as  the  first  real 
triumph  of  his  life. 

"  May  you  never  be  compelled  by  force,  your  High- 
ness, to  acknowledge  the  spirit  you  now  deny !"  were 
his  last  words,  as  he  left  the  council  of  ministers.  He 
did  not  suspect  how  soon,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  to 
know  and  estimate  at  its  full  power  the  spirit  that,  with 
scornful  menace,  he  had  held  up  as  a  ghost  before  the 
eyes  of  the  prince. 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day  the  rumor  that  Ottmar 
had  sent  in  his  resignation  spread  through  the  city,  so 
that  undoubtedly  the  question  of  the  constitution  had 
been  unfavorably  decided.  The  streets  were  deserted, 
but  the  public-houses  were  filled  to  overflowing;  con- 
versations were  carried  on  in  a  low  tone,  and  several 
arrests  were  made. 

The  next  morning  the  newspapers  confirmed  the  report 
that  Count  Ottmar's  resignation  had  been  sent  in  and 
accepted ;  and  further  remarked  that  the  government, 
spite  of  its  eagerness  to  accede  to  all  just  and  reasonable 
demands,  could  not  suffer  itself  to  be  borne  on  by  the 
extreme  views  of  this  man,  etc. 

This  was  too  hard  a  blow  for  the  newly-excited  hopes 
of  the  nation. 

Ottmar  himself,  by  his  previous  conduct,  had  uncon- 
sciously increased  its  expectations  to  such  an  extent  that 
they  could  only  be  crushed  by  a  terrible  rebuff,  but  not 
subside  peacefully. 

A  nation  which  has  long  pleaded  and  had  its  most 
reasonable  demands  rejected,  its  highest  expectations  dis- 
appointed, is  a  terrible  power  when,  with  its  last  hope, 
its  last  fear  is  cast  aside.  Scarcely  had  the  news  of  Ott- 
mar's withdrawal  from  the  ministry  spread  abroad,  when 
all  the  machines  stood  still,  all  the  looms  stopped.  A 
strange  bustle  began  to  make  itself  heard  in  the  streets. 
Workmen  ran  busily  to  and  fro,  groups  formed  and 
separated.  Crowds  of  men,  engaged  in  earnest  conver- 
sation, surged  up  and  down.  Towards  evening  the 
strange  mysterious  rabble,  the  vermin  which  always 
crawl  forth  when  the  soil  of  popular  order  is  disturbed, 
began  to  mingle  with  the  throng.  The  questions  and 


SPRING   STORMS.  291 

interference  of  the  police  were  answered  with  contempt 
*or  a  slap  in  the  face.  At  last,  with  the  gathering  dark- 
ness, the  aimless  tumult  assumed  purpose  and  direction  ; 
Ottmar's  house  was  the  point  towards  which  the  pulsing 
life  of  the  whole  city  streamed.  A  cheer  was  raised  for 
the  discharged  minister,  the  fallen  representative  of  the 
people.  A  few  hasty  charges  from  the  patrol  dispersed 
the  scarcely  organized,  defenceless  crowd;  but  the  result 
was  that  the  following  day  it  assembled  again,  and  the 
scene  was  repeated  ;  this  time  with  a  cheer  for  Ottmar 
and  a  hiss  for  the  government.  The  advancing  soldiers 
found  a  part  of  the  crowd  armed,  and  a  struggle  ensued. 
When  the  first  wounded  man  fell  a  furious  yell  burs.t 
forth,  and  the  resistance  became  desperate,  until  a  second 
detachment  of  mounted  gendarmes  dashed  upon  the  com- 
batants with  drawn  sabres  and  forced  them  asunder. 

The  first  blow  dealt  upon  such  occasions  opens  the 
artery  of  a  whole  nation,  and  the  wild  blood  streams 
forth  until  strength  is  utterly  exhausted,  and  the  arm 
yields  feebly  to  the  bandage  which  often  only  conceals  a 
new  fetter. 

On  the  third  day  the  city  looked  as  if  some  public 
festival  were  being  celebrated.  An  inexplicable  concourse 
of  strangers  thronged  the  streets;  the  trains  arrived 
crowded  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  provinces ;  new 
bauds  constantly  flocked  to  the  city  ;  the  soldiers  were 
consigned  to  the  barracks,  the  places  of  business  closed. 

Still  the  demon  of  insurrection,  imprisoned  in  every 
thr-obbing  heart,  waited  until  the  scattered  masses  ob- 
tained a  definite  form,  and  then  burst  forth  with  all  his 
long-repressed  power;  one  mind  in  a  many-limbed, 
gigantic  body.  Roaring  and  shouting  he  rushed  forward 
with  the  wings  of  the  storm,  ever  swelling  and  increas- 
ing, destroying  all  peaceful  life  as  he  dashed  along.  The 
breezes  fled  before  and  around  him,  the  earth  shook  and 
whirled  its  stones  upward  to  the  glittering  palaces  ;  while 
shattering  and  crashing,  groaning  and  roaring,  was  the 
accompanying  harmony  to  the  terrible,  howling,  and 
shouting  song  of  fury  of  the  unchained  revolution. 

Pale  terror  stared  hollow-eyed  at  the  passing  desola- 
tion, while  the  Nemesis  of  the  insulted  law  dashed  after 


292  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

on  snorting  steeds.  But  the  ghost  of  fratricide  rested 
with  paralyzing  power  upon  the  pursuers,  and  unreached, 
unchecked,  a  part  of  the  mighty  crowd  rushed  on  to  the 
arsenal.  The  guard  stationed  for  its  defense  fell  at  the 
first  tremendous  assault;  the  huge  doors  yielded,  and 
with  an  exultant  roar  of  "Arms  !"  the  combatants  rushed 
in  over  the  treasured  emblems  of  battle-traditions  centu- 
ries old,  to  prepare  for  the  most  important  conflict — the 
victory  of  the  new  over  the  old  time. 

Vengeance  hastened  after  with  lightning  and  thunder; 
and  the  infuriated  forces,  crashing  and  shrieking,  rushed 
upon  each  other  and  struggled  in  the  most  terrible  of  all 
conflicts — the  narrow,  crowded  battle  of  the  streets.  Re- 
peated volleys  of  artillery  and  new  bands  of  soldiers  at 
last  forced  a  way  through  the  throng  before  the  arsenal 
was  plundered.  But,  as  a  wave  which  the  tempest 
lashes  asunder  always  rushes  together  with  redoubled 
violence,  the  crowd  divided  and  grew  denser  here  and 
there  before  the  regular  weapons  of  the  troops.  Hotter 
and  more  deadly  grew  the  struggle.  Darkness  was  grad- 
ually added  to  the  thick  smoke  of  the  powder,  which  en- 
veloped the  noisy  city  and  absorbed  every  ray  of  light. 
Barricades,  those  terrible  fortifications  of  the  populace, 
had  risen,  and  around  them  the  conflict  raged,  so  that 
the  walls  of  the  houses  groaned  and  trembled,  and  with 
the  last  gleam  of  day  the  last  appearance  of  definite  pur- 
pose vanished,  darkness  shrouded  the  heated  brains,  and 
both  within  and  without  all  outline  of  form  and  plan 
vanished.  Murder  was  no  longer  committed  for  the  sake 
of  a  certain  object,  but  became  the  object  itself.  Nature 
asserted  her  rights,  not  in  a  peaceful,  normal  manner,  but 
with  horrible  degeneracy, — stupefaction  in  the  place  of 
sleep,  the  delirium  of  fury  instead  of  dreams.  The  ani- 
mal developed  itself  in  forms  of  hideous  distortion,  and 
the  most  dangerous  madness  took  possession  of  the  soul : 
joy  in  cruelty,  pleasure  in  destruction.  Hour  after  hour 
elapsed  in  a  wild  tumult  of  excesses  and  crimes;  anar- 
chy writhed  and  twisted  horribly  beneath  the  superior 
force  of  fresh  bodies  of  troops,  clung  giddily  to  her  bul- 
warks, and  defended  them  with  convulsive  energy  as  her 
last  support.  The  struggle  now  became  monotonous. 


SPRING   STORMS.  293 

Signals,  volleys  of  artillery,  and  fierce  howls,  like  those 
of  wild  beasts,  alternated  at  regular  intervals,  while  above 
them  rose  the  notes  of  the  alarm-bells,  and  only  the  crash 
of  falling  barricades,  the  glare  of  burning  houses,  inter- 
rupted the  terrible  rhythm  with  which  the  yielding  revo- 
lution was  uttering  its  last  sighs.  Limb  after  limb  began 
to  die,  street  after  street  became  quiet. 

At  last,  towards  morning,  the  over-taxed  strength  was 
exhausted,  the  thirst  for  blood  slaked.  Death  was  glean- 
ing in  the  houses  where  battle  had  cast  its  mangled  vic- 
tims, and  trembling  hands  were  busied  in  binding  up 
wounds,  while  compassion  and  horror  struggled  for  the 
mastery.  The  last  shot  died  away,  the  insurrection  was 
quelled.  Silence  spread  over  the  scene  the  lassitude  of 
death.  Slowly  the  ever-patient  heavens  flushed  with  the 
rosy  hues  of  dawn,  and  the  still  reeking  city  lay  purple 
in  its  blood. 

Ottmar  stood  at  the  window  gazing  silently,  now  at 
the  glowing  sky  and  now  at  the  blood-stained  earth. 
Horror  had  stupefied  him.  In  the  angles  of  the  streets 
soldiers,  who  had  fallen  asleep  while  standing  in  the 
ranks,  leaned  against  each  other,  shoulder  to  shoulder. 
Now  and  then  a  body  covered  with  straw  was  borne 
past;  pallid  women  stepped  noiselessly  over  the  barri- 
cades, urged  on  by  the  courage  of  despair,  and  crept  along 
the  streets  to  seek  their  husbands  and  sons;  invisible 
angels  of  death  floated  through  the  air,  guided  them  into 
the  right  path,  and  hovered  around  them  when,  in  some 
lifeless  body,  they  were  forced  to  recognize  a  relative. 

Heinrich  gazed  motionless  at  these  changing  scenes 
of  misery  ;  but  his  inmost  heart  was  strangely  stirred. 
The  spirit  of  murdered  freedom  celebrated  in  him  its 
resurrection,  built  a  temple  in  his  soul,  raised  its  arches 
heavenward,  and  led  him  away  from  this  sorrowful  scene 
of  his  former  unhallowed  labors  to  his  own  home,  where 
the  lists  stood  open  to  the  missionaries  of  national  hnp- 
piness,  where  he  could  obey  the  call  which  had  appealed 
to  his  conscience  in  the  death-cry  of  an  ill-used  country. 
All  the  frivolity  and  brilliancy  that  had  formerly  charmed 
him  was  swallowed  up  in  the  streams  of  blood  he  had 
seen  flow, — all  striving  and  struggling  to  assert  his  own 

25* 


294  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

merits  vanished  in  the  newly-awakened  consciousness  of 
the  duties  devolving-  upon  every  talented  man  for  the  de- 
velopment and  culture  of  the  masses.  The  solemnity  of 
the  moment  had  seized  upon  him  and  stripped  off  all  that 
was  false  and  superficial.  He  could  not  answer  with 
sophisms  the  great  question  propounded  by  the  times  ; 
he  must  at  last  be  himself  again,  must  acknowledge  the 
truth,  and  from  amidst  all  the  horrors  of  vengeance,  the 
rushing  streams  of  blood,  once  more  arose  in  its  pure 
beauty  the  thought  of  the  eternal  rights  of  man  he  had 
so  grievously  profaned. 


XXII. 

LIGHT   AND    SHADOW. 

A  RADIANT  morning  sky  arched  over  a  green  island 
which  lay  in  the  midst  of  a  broad,  ruffled  lake.  Blue 
mountain-peaks,  veiled  in  mist,  bounded  the  almost-im- 
measurable surface  of  water.  Who  can  describe  all  the 
changeful  lights  upon  the  tide  when  the  young  rays  of 
the  morning  sun  play  upon  the  dancing  wavelets — the 
rising  and  falling,  the  sparkling  and  flashing,  the  con- 
fused blending  of  the  reflections?  A  fresh  breeze  swept 
over  the  lake  to  the  island  and  rustled  the  leaves  of  the 
lofty  trees;  with  that  exception,  a  deep  silence,  a  sub- 
bath-like  peace,  brooded  over  the  scene. 

A  girlish  figure  stood  upon  the  shore,  gazing,  in  a  trance 
of  delight,  at  the  starry  shimmer  of  the  waves,  and  in- 
haling with  parted  lips  the  cool  breath  of  the  water  ; 
I'H  \\  v  leaves  and  blossoms  kissed  her  floating  robes,  and 
dragon -flies  sported  upon  the  tide  at  her  feet.  Her 
eyes  followed  with  a  longing  look  a  bird  of  prey  which 
soared  in  a  majestic  flight  towards  the  pure,  vaulted 
firmament.  Just  then  the  sound  of  the  matin-bell  rang 
out  upon  the  silence,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  tall  man, 
in  long,  dark  robe,  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  a  peasant's 
house  near  by,  and,  standing  motionless,  gazed  at  the 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  295 

slender  figure,  whose  marvelous  proportions  were  sharply- 
outlined  against  the  sparkling  lake!  "Cornelia!"  he 
called  at  last. 

She  turned  and  hurried  towards  him.  "  My  dear 
Severinus  !  Oh,  how  happy  I  am  !  Here  the  free  Ger- 
man air  blows  once  more;  here  I  again  hear  the  rustling 
of  German  oaks  and  pines.  Home  surrounds  me  in  this 
fresh,  simple  nature,  speaks  in  the  familiar  language, 
looks  from  the  kindly  blue  eyes.  I  live  once  more, — I 
am  awake, — and  what  surrounds  me  is  charming,  bright 
reality." 

"  Have  you  only  been  dreaming  while  in  our  glorious 
Italy  ?"  asked  Severinus,  gravely. 

"  Yes,  Severinus  ;  a  beautiful,  wonderful  dream,  but  a 
dream  after  all.  I  was  torn  from  my  native  soil ;  my 
heart  could  not  take  root  anywhere ;  no  dear  relations 
with  my  past  existed  ;  no  new  ones  were  formed  with 
the  present.  What  I  saw  and  experienced  only  en- 
riched my  intellect,  not  my  heart ;  it  afforded  me  pleasure 
without  making  me  happy  ;  occupied  my  mind  without 
obtaining  any  hold  upon  my  nature.  I  gazed,  admired, 
learned,  and  reveled  in  a  wealth  of  beauty ;  but  I  was  not 
myself, — my  individual  life  had  no  connection  with  my 
surroundings.  What  is  this  except  a  dream  ijito  which 
we  bring  nothing,  and  from  which  we  take  only  a 
memory  ?" 

"  I  had  hoped  you  would  not  return  so  empty  from  a 
country  of  the  loftiest  revelations.  I  expected  your 
great  soul  would  there  find  its  only  true  home,  and  the 
sorrow  of  finding  myself  mistaken  shall  be  the  last  the 
world  can  prepare  for  me." 

"Oh,  do  not  talk  so,  Severinus,  dear,  pious  father  !  Do 
not  look  at  me  so  sadly ;  do  not  be  so  stern  and  bitter, 
but  enjoy  with  me  the  blessing  of  this  peaceful  morning. 
Let  holy  nature  be  the  church  in  which  our  souls  can 
unite  in  adoration  of  our  common  God.  See,  my  friend, 
clearness  of  vision  is  as  unavoidable  a  necessity  to  me  as 
light  and  air;  in  clearness  of  vision  God  shows  himself 
to  me,  while  you  only  perceive  him  in  mysteries.  In 
order  to  see  him  I  open  my  spiritual  eyes ;  you  close 
yours.  I  receive  his  manifestations  with  sharpened,  you 


296  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

with  artificially  deadened,  senses.  I  see  him  in  each  of 
these  light  clouds  floating  over  the  sunny  sky ;  you 
darken  your  churches,  and  shroud  yourselves  in  clouds 
of  incense,  that  in  the  mysterious,  rich-hued  twilight  you 
may  paint  a  vague,  fanciful  picture.  His  natural  and 
moral  laws  everywhere  announce  themselves  to  me  in 
shining  characters,  and  I  serve  him  by  cheerful  obedi- 
ence to  them;  you  collect  from  the  ambiguous  writings 
of  the  Bible  a  book  of  church  regulations,  to  which  you 
slavishly  submit,  and  exhaust  your  heurts  and  minds  in 
the  superhuman  effort  of  satisfying  all  your  self-created 
duties." 

"  I  hope  this  is  not  the  only  result  of  your  observation 
of  our  sublime  worship.  It  must  be  the  short  residence; 
on  this  dull  German  soil  which  has  loosened  the  strings 
that  resounded  so  clearly  in  Rome." 

"  Do  not  cherish  such  a  fancy,  Severinus,"  said  Cor- 
nelia, as  she  walked  up  and  down  the  shore  with  him. 
"  The  forms  of  your  worship,  as  I  saw  them  in  Rome, 
delighted  me ;  nay,  their  grundeur  and  poesy  aroused  a 
wild  enthusiasm.  But  it  was  the  revelation  of  art,  not 
that  of  the  Deity,  at  which  I  gazed.  All  your  miracles, 
all  your  lofty  precepts,  proved  nothing  except  the  gran- 
deur of  the  human  intellect,  and  in  this  the  existence  and 
influence  t>f  a  God,  which  I  never  ^doubted,  and  which 
had  been  just  as  clearly  revealed  to  me  in  every  creation 
of  genius.  My  God,  to  whom  I  pray  in  childish  adora- 
tion, has  remained  the  same ;  he  has  come  from  Rome 
with  me  the  same  as  he  went.  You  neither  strengthened 
nor  shook  my  belief;  I  cherish  the  deepest  reverence  for 
your  worship  of  Ood;  it  is  more  beautiful,  more  sublime, 
than  ours;  my  heart  has  opened  to  much  that  revealed  a 
character  of  sincere  piety,  but  I  still  see  in  it  only  a 
transitory  form,  liable  to  alter  with  the  changes  of  cen- 
turies; while  I  bear  within  me  the  imperishable  essence, 
ever  the  same  through  the  lapse  of  ages." 

"  Oh,  Cornelia,  how  I  pity  you  !"  said  Severinus,  as  he 
leaned  against  an  oak,  covering  liis  dark  eyes  with  his 
hand,  while  his  breast  rose  and  fell  as  if  he  were  strug- 
gli^ig  for  breath.  "Cornelia,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed, 
encircling  her  forehead  with  both  hands,  "  free  your 


LIGHT  AND  SHADOW.  297 

mind,  your  godlike  mind,  from  the  clutches  of  this 
prejudice;  cast  aside  the  arrogance  of  independent  judg- 
ment; bend  your  haughty  brow  in  obedience  to  our 
church.  Oh,  if  I  could  give  you  the  blessing  to  be  found 
in  unconditional  submission, — blind  faith, — I  would  will- 
ingly sacrifice  my  life  to  save  for  the  church  this  soul, 
which  has  no  peer  in  human  form!  Cornelia,  a  fiend 
has  taken  possession  of  you  ;  that  of  pride,  doubt,  in- 
difference. He  has  concealed  himself  under  the  false 
lustre  of  an  abstract  reverence  for  God,  to  lull  your 
conscience  to  sleep,  in  order  that  you  may  the  more 
surely  fall  into  unbelief  and  destruction."  He  suddenly 
threw  himself  at  her  feet,  and  gazed  despairingly  into 
her  eyes.  "  Here  I  lie  before  you  in  the  dust,  and 
I  plead  in  infinite  anguish  for  the  precious  imperiled 
property  of  Christ.  The  next  moment  of  time  may 
perhaps  decide  your  fate,  and  part  us  forever.  Cornelia, 
join  our  church  ;  believe  me,  she  alone  can  save  you  " 

"  Oh,  God,  how  hardly  you  try  me !  You  wrong  me, 
Severinus.  No  evil  spirit,  no  prejudice,  guides  me. 
Have  you  ever  seen  me  arrogant  ?  If  I  were,  should  I 
not  go  over  to  you  ?  for  you  have  opened  the  most 
tempting  prospects  to  my  pride  ;  you  would  hail  my 
conversion  with  joy,  and  receive  me  with  every  kind  of 
pomp  and  distinction.  My  self-love  would  be  so  greatly 
flattered  that  it  would  far,  far  outweigh  the  self-denial  of 
an  outward  subordination  to  the  church,  while  in  my 
own  congregation  no  one  asks  about  Cornelia  Erwing. 
But  I  cannot  thus  belie  myself.  Do  not  sadden  my  heart 
with  entreaties  and  lamentations  :  convince  mfc>  Sever- 
inus; for  so  long  as  you  do-cot  succeed  ijf  that  I  can  do 
nothing  but  weep,  because  I  must  grieve  my  best  friend 
so  deeply." 

"  Convince  you  !"  cried  Severinus,  starting  up.  "  If  the 
whole  gigantic  structure  of  our  religion,  whose  founda- 
tions certainly  do  not  rest  upon  air,  the  marvels  of  our 
worship,  the  words  of  the  fathers  of  the  church,  the  his- 
torical proofs  of  our  traditions  which  reach  back  to  the 
time  of  the  establishment  of  Catholicism  by  Peter  him- 
self, could  not  convince  you,  there  is  nothing  left  for  me 
to  say." 
N* 


293  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

"All  that,  my  friend,  even  granting  that  they  were 
proofs,  could  not  make  me  forget  the  causes  of  the 
Reformation.  The  Reformation  is  the  mother  of  my 
faith." 

"Ah,  do  not  utter  these  words  in  the  same  breath! 
What  had  your  Reformation  in  common  with  faith? 
Were  your  dry,  philosophical  Melanchthon,  your  rou.tr h, 
sensual  Luther,  your  chiding,  physically  and  morally 
starving  Hutten,  representatives  of  a  religious  trans- 
formation?" 

"  They  were  men  who  had  the  courage  to  appear  be- 
fore the  hypocrisy  of  your  degenerate  priesthood  as  they 
really  were  ;  who  did  not  seek  the  halo  of  sanctity  in  the 
denial  of  human  nature,  but  honored  God  and  his  wis- 
dom in  his  laws.  Besides,  we  too  do  not  lack  sainted 
martyrs,  and  the  flames  that  consumed  a  Huss  branded 
an  eternal  stigma  upon  your  church." 

"  I  cannot  argue  with  you  about  the  means  the  church 
was  permitted  to  use  against  such  apostates.  I  will  only 
tell  you,  my  child,  that  the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  nothing  more  than  a  secular  insurrection 
against  abuses  in  the  church,  which  unfortunately  cannot 
be  denied.  But  a  secular  revolution  can  never  create  a 
religion,  and  therefore  Protestantism  lacks  the  positive 
character  the  human  heart  needs,  and  where  it  strives  to 
appropriate  it,  becomes  a  monster,  for  it  is  and  remains 
nothing  more  than  a — protest  against  Catholicism." 

"  Our  Reformation  was  not  to  create  a  religion ;  its 
purpose  was  merely  to  free  one  already  existing  from 
abuse  and  error.  Its  task  was  to  restore  Christianity  to 
its  original  purity,  and  if  it  did  not  wholly  succeed,  if  in 
Protestantism  it  has  only  produced  a  transitory,  imper- 
fect form,  we  still  thank  it  for  the  highest  blessings 
of  civilization,  and  most  precious  of  all,  that  freedom  of 
conscience  which  permits  the  dissatisfied  mind  to  choose 
its  own  religion." 

"And  this  much-praised  'freedom  of  conscience'  leads 
directly  to  want  of  principle,  and  becomes  the  destruction 
of  all  virtue,  all  religion  !"  cried  Severinus,  indignantly. 
"  The  human  race  cannot  dispense  with  a  positive  church 
discipline  without  falling  into  anarchy.  And  in  you,  Cor- 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  299 

nelia,  unhappily,  I  have  already  had  an  opportunity  to 
learn  the  effects  of  this  emancipation." 

"  You  have  learned,  Severinus,"  interrupted  Cornelia, 
with  noble  pride,  "  that  I  resisted  evil  with  the  same 
power  with  which  I  now  repel  the  flattering-  allurements 
of  a  cburgh  adorned  with  all  the  magic  of  fancy  and 
attraction  of  rites,  because  it  is  at  variance  with  my  own 
convictions.  Is  this  a  want  of  moral  discipline  ?" 

Severinus  walked  on  beside  Cornelia  in  silence.  The 
sun  had  risen  higher  in  the  heavens,  and  the  bell  for 
mass  rang  from  the  neighboring  convent.  Severinus 
paused  and  gazed  long  and  earnestly  into  Cornelia's  eyes. 
"Girl,  does  not  that  innocent  voice  fall  upon  your  ear  in 
tones  of  touching  warning,  like  the  pleading  of  a  mother 
calling  to  her  lost  child?" 

"  Do  not  be  such  a  bigoted  Catholic  to-day,  Severinus," 
said  Cornelia,  gazing  at  him  beseechingly.  "All  the  joy 
of  this  earthly  life  is  stirring  in  my  heart,  and  must  I 
constantly  argue  with  you  about  the  best  means  of  reach- 
ing heaven?  Oh,  let  me  enjoy  with  a  thankful  soul  the 
rich  abundance  of  happiness  my  Creator  has  poured  out 
for  me !  Do  not  cast  the  black  shadow  of  your  religious 
harshness  over  the  sunny  picture  of  this  day.  Severinus, 
my  dear,  gloomy  friend,  be  mild  and  gentle.  Look  at  me 
as  kindly  as  you  used  to  do.  See,  see,  there  is  the  glim- 
mer of  a  smile  upon  your  face  !  Ah,  it  has  already 
vanished  again  !  What  a  pity !  Ever  since  the  news 
of  Ottmar's  going  over  to  the  liberal  party  brought  me 
back  to  Germany,  and  filled  me  with  the  blissful  cer- 
tainty of  being  reunited  to  him,  you  have  become  a  dif- 
ferent person.  When  I  lost  him,  I  gained  you;  and  now 
that  I  am  to  gain  him  once  more,  I  lose  you.  When  I 
felt  miserable  and  lonely,  you  were  as  loving  and  patient 
as  a  father;  but  since  I  have  been  animated  with  new 
hope,  you  have  retired  coldly  into  yourself,  and  you  have 
hidden  yourself  behind  the  walls  of  your  work  of  con- 
version." 

"  My  task,  Cornelia,  is  only  to  aid  the  afflicted  ;  the 
happy  do  not  need  me."  Severinus  looked  silently  up 
towards  heaven.  His  eyes  were  bloodshot ;  his  wasted 
face,  bronzed  by  the  Italian  sun,  glowed  with  fervor. 


300  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

Cornelia  laid  her  clasped  hands  compassionately  and 
beseechingly  upon  his  breast.  "  Severiuus,  you  are  suf- 
fering; I  see  it." 

For  a  moment  he  pressed  her  hands  closely  to  his 
throbbing  heart,  then  hurled  them  away,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  horror,  and  hurried  off. 

Cornelia  looked  after  him  in  astonishment,  btot  did  not 
try  to  follow,  for  she  felt  that  the  emotion  which  moved 
him  was  a  secret  she  ought  not  to  fathom.  She  turned 
towards  the  rural  inn  where  she  lodged,  and  now  ob- 
served for  the  first  time  that  one  of  the  artists  who  came 
to  the  island  to  sketch  was  seated  on  a  little  hillock  not 
far  from  the  spot  where  she  had  been  pacing  with  Sev- 
erinus,  and  recognized  him  as  the  very  person  to  whose 
talent  she  owed  her  first  picture  of  Ottmar.  She  ap- 
proached, and  he  hastily  concealed  in  his  portfolio  the 
paper  upon  which  he  had  been  working. 

"  You  only  arrived  yesterday  evening,  and  are  already 

sketching  the  scenery,  Herr  A .  Is  it  not  a  little 

hasty?" 

"I  have  already  made  myself  familiar  with  all  its 

details,"  said  A ,  with  evident  embarrassment.  "I 

am  very  much  hurried,  because  I  would  like  to  finish  the 
picture  in  time  for  the  exhibition  at  H ." 

"Then  I  will  not  detain  you,  but  wish  you  all  possible 
success.  Au  revoir,  Herr  A ." 

"  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  you  at  a 
later  hour,  Fraulein  Erwing,"  said  A ,  bowing  re- 
spectfully; and,  as  Cornelia  turned  away,  he  drew  out 
his  sketch,  and  eagerly  continued  his  work. 

Cornelia  entered  the  public  room,  to  ask  if  the  news- 
papers had  arrived.  It  was  full  of  active  life.  Some 
twenty  young  artists  were  standing  together  consulting 
about  a  trip  they  were  to  take ;  most  of  them  handsome 
young  fellows,  with  large  beards,  boldly-curved  Calabrian 
hats,  open  shirt-collars,  and  the  general  adventurous 
negligence  of  apparel  with  which  the  young  representa- 
tives of  the  laws  of  beauty  seek  to  remove  the  pedantic 
stiffness  of  modern  costume. 

A  general  "ah!"  echoed  through  the  room  at  Cor- 
nelia's entrance,  and  a  movement  took  place  which  made 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  301 

the  dense  clouds  of  tobacco-smoke  that  filled  the  low 
apartment  whirl  as  if  driven  by  the  wind.  The  hats 
were  removed ;  the  beer-glasses  noiselessly  set  aside. 
All  crowded  around  Cornelia. 

"  Fraulein  Erwing!"  cried  one,  to  whom  a  waving  red 
inane  and  widely-dilated  nostrils  gave  the  appearance  of 
a  lion,  "we  have  at  last  caught  you  without  your  black 
guardian!  You  must  yield  to  superior  force,  and  let  us 
steal  your  face.  We  are  a  terrible  band  of  robbers,  and 
a  person  for  whom  we  once  lay  snares  does  not  escape 
us  so  easily." 

"Yes,  but  we  must  first  have  a  fight,  to  decide  which 
of  us  she  will  allow  to  paint  her,"  said  another,  waving 
a  staff  in  the  air. 

"  Fraulein  Erwing,"  cried  a  little  black-bearded  Pole, 
with  a  shrill  accent,  "  I  will  shoot  the  first  man  to  whom 
you  sit  I" 

"That  is  not  necessary,"  growled  he  of  the  lion's 
mane  ;  "  we  will  all  paint  her  at  once  !" 

i  "Yes,  yes!"  cried  many  voices  at  the  same  moment. 
"That's  a  good  idea!     We  will  all  paint  her  at  once!" 

"That  is,  if  I  will  sit  to  you,"  laughed  Cornelia,  "for 
I  have  not  yet  resigned  all  right  of  ownership  in  my  own 
face,  gentlemen." 

"  Fraulein  Erwing,"  began  the  man  of  the  lion's  mane, 
with  great  pathos,  "  we  do  not  know  in  what  branch  of 
Christian  duty  your  reverend  father  instructs  you,  but 
he  has  certainly  taught  you  that  our  advantages  are  only 
bestowed  upon  us  that  we  may  make  them  available  for 
the  profit  and  welfare  of  others  ;  so  you  will  perceive  that 
it  is  your  duty  to  pay  the  debt  you  owe  Providence  for 
your  face,  by  using  it  to  aid  the  development  of  youthful 
talent." 

"Yes!"  cried  another;  "you  could  not  justify  your- 
self before  God  if  you  displayed  such  a  wealth  of  beauty 
to  idle  gazers,  and  grudgingly  refused  the  struggling  artist 
permission  to  use  and  perpetuate  its  lines  in  an  inspired 
creation." 

"  You  would  make  me  unconscionably  vain,  gentle- 
men," said  Cornelia,  "  if  the  fame  of  being  the  most  beau- 
tiful on  this  little  island  were  not  so  cheaply  purchased." 

26 


302  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

A  general  "  Oh,  oh  !"  expressed  the  indignation  of  the 
enthusiastic  artists  at  this  modesty,  and  a  torrent  of  eager 
protestations  threatened  to  follow  :  but  Cornelia  cut  them 
short  by  exclaiming,  gayly,  "  Well,  well,  if  you  can  make 
me  of  any  use  for  a  picture,  I  will  give  you  a  sitting;  but 
one  only,  and  at  the  utmost  two  hours  long.  So,  who- 
ever wants  to  paint  me  must  take  advantage  of  the  op- 
portunity." 

"  That  is  excellent!"  they  all  cried,  joyously.  "  It's  a 
very  short  time,  to  be  sure,  but  we'll  see  about  the  rest. 
But  when  may  we  draw  you?" 

"  Whenever  you  choose,  gentlemen.  Perhaps  the  best 
time  would  be  now  !" 

"  Yes,  yes ;  we  will  take  her  at  her  word,"  said  one  of 
the  older  ones  of  the  party.  "  It  shall  be  done  now ;  and 
when  the  two  hours  are  over,  Friiulein  Erwing  shall  see 
the  sketches,  and  decide  which  of  us  she  considers  worthy 
the  honor  of  another  sitting  for  the  completion  of  her 
picture." 

"  But  our  excursion,"  said  a  tall  lad,  whose  whole 
vitality  seemed  to  have  run  into  an  immense  length  of 
limb.  "  Shall  we  defer  our  excursion  ?" 

"  Let  your  chicken  legs  take  you  where  you  like, 
man,"  thundered  he  of  the  lion's  mane;  "but  don't  say 
you  are  an  artist,  if  you  talk  about  excursions  while 
our  eyes  are  permitted  a  glimpse  into  the  holy  of  holies 
of  beauty." 

"  Let  him  go !"  cried  another.  "  He  can't  help  it ;  all 
his  vital  functions  are  expended  in  the  use  of  his  feet.  It 
will  be  one  the  less  to  take  up  the  room  ;  there  are  twenty- 
three  of  us  without  him.  The  number  is  still  too  large. 
I  scarcely  believe  that  there  were  ever  so  many  assembled 
on  the  island  at  one  time  before." 

A  long  debate  now  followed  concerning  the  place  where 
they  should  sketch  Cornelia,  while  the  latter  had  mean- 
time obtained  possession  of  the  newspaper,  and  was  read- 
ing it  in  breathless  suspense.  Suddenly  she  started.  She 
had  found  what  she  sought, — Ottmar's  name  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  H Chambers.  Her  face  was  suffused 

with  a  rosy  flush  of  joy,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she 
laid  the  sheet  aside  and  turned  towards  the  artists,  who 


LIGHT  AND  SHADOW.  303 

were  disputing  violently  because  some  thought  it  too 
hot  out  of  doors,  and  others  considered  the  room  too 
small. 

"  Gentlemen,"  she  cried  gayly,  "  peace  is  the  first  con- 
dition I  shall  impose  if  I  am  to  sit  for  you.  We  will  go 
out  into  the  open  air  and  look  for  some  shady  spot ;  if 
you  all  want  to  paint  me  at  the  same  time,  we  shall  cer- 
tainly need  more  room  than  there  is  here." 

The  proposal  was  accepted,  and  the  whole  party  went 
out  with  Cornelia.  On  a  lofty  part  of  the  shore,  not  far 
from  the  inn,  was  a  large  open  space  surrounded  with 
lofty  trees,  beneath  which  stood  wooden  benches  and 
tables,  and  where,  in  spite  of  the  heat,  it  was  cool  and 
pleasant.  The  eye  could  wander  undazzled  over  the 
rippling  lake  and  the  beautiful  island,  which  rested  on  the 
waters  like  a  large  green  leaf.  The  light  surges  gently 
rocked  the  boats  fastened  near  by  ;  in  one  of  them,  under 
the  spreading  branches  of  an  ancient  linden,  a  peasant 
lad  was  extended  sleeping  comfortably,  undisturbed  by 
the  loud  bustle  of  the  approaching  artists.  It  seemed  as 
if  all  nature  was  slumbering  in  her  sunny  noontide 
brightness. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  exclaimed  Cornelia,  "is  it  not  de- 
lightful here?  Have  we  not  shade,  fresh  breezes,  and 
comfort  ?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  artists  in  one  breath  ;  "we  will 
stay  here.  Out  with  the  portfolios,  and  let  every  one 
take  his  place  and  go  to  work !" 

They  buzzed  about  Cornelia  like  a  swarm  of  bees 
which  are  about  to  settle  and  fly  from  one  spot  to  another, 
now  alighting,  now  rising  again,  now  dispersing,  and 
anon  collecting  at  the  same  point,  scuffling  with  each 
other  about  places,  and  filling  the  inexperienced  observer 
with  anxiety  lest  they  should  never  get  established.  Such 
were  the  preparations  of  the  artists  at  the  beginning  of 
their  work.  Here  several  were  disputing  about  the  pro- 
file, yonder  a  group  wished  to  sit  opposite  to  her,  not  un- 
frequently  a  slight  skirmish  decided  the  matter,  and  those 
who  did  not  succeed  in  conquering  a  place  climbed  up 
into  the  trees  and  established  themselves  and  their  port- 
folios among  the  branches. 


304  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

'•  We  must  form  the  narrowest  possible  semicircle," 
advised  he  of  the  liou's  mane,  \vlio,  as  the  possessor  of 
the  strongest  lungs  in  the  company,  undertook  the  duty 
of  organizing  the  party,  in  which,  by  means  of  a  great 
expenditure  of  voice  and  unwearied  energy,  he  at  last 
.succeeded;  and  when,  with  the  aid  of  the  trees,  a  half- 
circle  was  formed  in  the  shape  of  an  amphitheatre  whose 
extremities  could  not  even  obtain  a  full  profile,  but  merely 
a  portion  of  the  cheek  and  ear,  the  zealous  artist  first 
perceived  that  he  had  completely  excluded  himself.  His 
nostrils  dilated  to  an  unprecedented  size  as  his  large  eyes 
wandered  around  the  circle,  while  his  broad  freckled 
bands  were  thrust  helplessly  through  his  unkempt  mane. 
A  shrill  peal  of  laughter  echoed  jeeringly  from  the  circle 
and  the  trees,  "  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  has  no  place  !" 

"  Be  calm,  Richard,"  cried  one  ;  "  we  will  get  you  into 
the  exhibition  after  all.  We'll  paint  Fraulein  Ervviug  as 
the  lion's  bride,  and  you  as  the  monster!" 

"  Jeer  away,  you  mocking-birds  !"  he  thundered^  "  Be- 
cause I  am  an  artist,  I  thought  more  of  the  subject  than 
myself,  and  I'll  show  you  what  an  artist  can  do.  I'll 
paint  a  neck  and  hair  such  as  the  world  never  yet  saw !" 
and  with  these  words  he  strode  majestically  on,  seated 
himself  behind  Cornelia,  and  began  to  work  with  the 
most  grotesque  movements. 

Silence  now  reigned  while  the  three-and-twenty  artists 
struggled  in  the  greatest  possible  haste  to  perpetuate  her 
features. 

Cornelia  had  watched  the  tumult  absently;  her  thoughts 
were  wandering  far  away,  and  the  stillness  that  ensued 
was  most  welcome.  She  could  give  herself  up  to  her 
dreams  undisturbed.  "  She  is  marvelously  beautiful !" 
suddenly  cried  one  of  the  younger  artists  from  his  perch 
in  the  tree.  Universal  applause  answered  this  na'ive  ex- 
pression of  delight.  "  The  birds  in  the  trees  are  singing 
your  praises,  Fraulein  Erwiug!"  cried  another.  "Doesn't 
that  flatter  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  she  answered,  smiling  as  indifferently 
as  if  she  had  not  understood  the  compliment  paid  her. 

"The  best  likeness  will  flatter  her  most,"  growled 
Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  from  behind  Cornelia.  "  Express 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  305 

your  admiration  by  work  instead  of  words,  and  she  will 
value  it  more." 

"  Well  growled,  lion !"  said  the  young  enthusiast  in 
the  tree. 

"  Go  on  the  stage  and  declaim  verses ;  you  are  more 
fit  for  an  actor  than  an  artist,"  exclaimed  Richard,  with- 
out having  the  slightest  suspicion  that  he  was  himself 
in  his  appearance  the  most  theatrical  of  all ;  for  natural- 
ness, when  carried  too  far,  becomes  as  great  a  caricature 
as  affectation,  and  the  stage  is  certainly  the  home  of 
caricatured  forms. 

"Come,  gentlemen,"  cried  Cornelia,  laughing;  "the 
lime  you  spend  in  disputing  you  will  lose  in  work;  for  I 
must  tell  you  that  I  will  not  sit  a  moment  longer  than 
the  two  hours  agreed  upon !  It  is  altogether  too  uncom- 
fortable to  endure  the  gaze  of  three-and-twenty  pairs  of 
eyes." 

This  threat  re-established  peace  ;  for  the  artists  once 
more  demoted  all  their  energy  to  their  work,  and  hence- 
forth nothing  was  heard  but  the  wondering  exclamations 
of  several  country  people  who  stationed  themselves  here 
and  there  on  the  outskirts  of  the  shaded  spot  to  gaze  at 
a  proceeding  utterly  incomprehensible  to  them.  The  time 
agreed  upon  passed  away,  and  Cornelia  rose.  Neither 
grumbling  nor  entreaties  availed  ;  she  kept  resolutely  to 
her  determination.  The  sketches  were  laid  before  her, 
and  as  she  looked  at  them  in  succession  she  burst  into  a 
merry  laugh.  She  saw  her  own  face  taken  from  some 
twenty  different  stand-points.  "  Dear  me,  can  I  be  like 
all  these  ?"  she  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands  in  aston- 
ishment. "  If  I  ever  knew  how  I  looked,  I  should  not 
from  this  day !  Who  can  decide  which  of  these  many 
faces  is  mine  ?  If  this  is,  of  course  that  can't  be ;  and  if 
this  profile  taken  from  the  right  is  a  good  likeness,  how 
can  the  one  sketched  from  the  left  resemble  me  ?  The 
right  side  of  my  face  must  be  entirely  different  from  the 
left, — and  that  would  be  horribly  abnormal.  According 
to  these  profile  views  I  should  have  two  kinds  of  eyes, 
eyebrows,  cheeks ;  nay,  even  my  nose  would  consist  of 
two  dissimilar  halves.  Now,  can  you  dispute  this, 
gentlemen?" 

26* 


306  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

The  artists  themselves  could  not  help  laughing  as  they 
looked  at  their  pictures. 

"Now  you  will  get  an  idea  of  the  variety  and  abund- 
ance of  beauty  your  features  possess,  Friiulein  Erwing," 
said  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  group.  "When  compared 
with  you  the  majority  of  the  sketches  seem  passable 
likenesses,  although  so  different  from  each  other  that 
one  would  almost  doubt  whether  they  all  represeuted  the 
same  face." 

"A  very  pretty  compliment  to  me — and  an  admirable 
defense  of  your  colleagues,"  said  Cornelia,  courteously. 

"But,  Friiulein  Erwing,"  cried  another ;  "you  have 
not  yet  noticed  a  picture  which  is  at  all  events  unique  in 
its  way  ;  and  our  Coeur  de  Lion,  with  unusual  modesty, 
has  already  been  waiting  a  long  time  for  your  opinion." 

He  handed  Richard's  drawing  to  Cornelia,  and  all 
gazed  at  it  in  astonishment,  for  it  was  a  master-piece.  A 
woman's  upraised  head,  adorned  with  a  wealth  of  hair 
so  boldly  drawn  that  one  felt  tempted  to  pass  it  through 
the  fingers.  A  few  curls  which  had  escaped  from  the 
braids  fell  upon  a  most  beautiful  neck.  Cornelia  looked 
at  the  sheet  in  amazement.  "  You  are  indeed  an  artist," 
said  she,  fixing  her  large  eyes  with  winning  kindness 
upon  Richard's  rugged  face.  He  blushed  to  the  roots  of 
his  tawny  hair  with  delight.  "  Friiulein  Erwing,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  no  praise  ever  made  me  so  proud !" 

"Yes,  yes,  Coeur  de  Lion,  Friiulein  Erwing  is  right," 
said  several  of  the  group;  "this  hair  and  neck  irresistibly 
tempt  the  beholder  to  turn  the  head  and  see  the  face, 
which  is  concealed  from  us.  You  have  produced  a 
master-piece." 

"If  you  go  on  so  much  longer,  he'll  get  so  vain  that 
he  will  comb  bis  hair  to-morrow.  Just  see  !  he  is  running 
his  fingers  through  his  mane!"  said  others,  laughing. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  the  rest,  "we  will  hope  that  at  the 
exhibition  Friiulein  Erwing's  features  will  yet  win  the 
victory  over  the  beauty  of  her  hair." 

Thus  each  was  cheered  by  the  conviction  that  he  alone 
would  obtain  the  prize. 

"  So  you  will  not  sit  longer  to  any  of  us  ?"  asked 
Richard,  as  he  placed  his  sketch  in  his  portfolio. 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  307 

"  No,  gentlemen.  I  was  in  the  mood  to  enter  into 
your  jest;  but  if  you  ask  me  in  earnest,  I  must  tell  you 
that  it  would  not  be  at  all  agreeable  to  me  to  expose  my 
face  to  the  eyes  of  the  whole  public.  I  am  both  too 
proud  and  too  modest." 

"Is  this  your  final  decision?" 

"It  is  irrevocable,"  said  Cornelia,  with  courteous  reso- 
lution. 

"  Well,  we  will  not  be  ungrateful.  In  these  two  hours 
we  have  at  least  fixed  the  outlines  of  your  features," 
said  one  of  the  quieter  members  of  the  party. 

But  the  others  would  not  yield  at  once,  and  began  to 
plead  again. 

"  If  you  understood  the  spirit  that  animates  these 
features,  you  would  beg  no  longer,  for  you  would  know 
it  to  be  vain,"  cried  Richard,  with  bis  usual  artless 
pathos.  Then  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Cornelia  and  con- 
tinued :  "  I  should  probably  have  the  best  right  to  entreat 
you  for  another  sitting,  since  I  was  so  great  a  loser  ;  but 
I  will  not  ask  it  after  what  you  have  just  said." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  delicacy  of  feeling,  Herr 
Richard,"  replied  Cornelia,  with  unconcealed  admiration. 
"You  may  be  assured  that  if  I  sat  to  any  of  these  gen- 
tlemen it  would  be  to  you  ;  yet  if  you  understand  the 
reason  of  niy  refusal,  you  will  not  be  angry  if  I  make  no 
exception,  even  in  your  favor." 

Richard  buried  Cornelia's  hand  in  his  prickly  beard  to 
press  a  kiss  upon  it.  "Angry  with  you?  Who  that 
had  the  heart  of  a  true  artist  could  be  ?  For,  although  we 
are  not  permitted  to  make  portraits  of  you,  we  still  owe 
you  thanks  for  a  type  of  beauty  which  will  be  of  service 
to  us  all." 

"Yes,  yes;  he  is  right,"  they  all  assented.  "You 
have  not  only  enriched  our  eyes,  but  our  imaginations  ! 
Long  live  Cornelia  Ervviug  !  Hurrah  !" 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  the  dinner-bell  echoed 
from  the  inn,  and  at  the  same  instant  Severinus's  black- 
robed  figure  appeared,  coming  from  the  neighboring  con- 
vent. The  artists  wiped  the  perspiration  from  their 
brows,  for  the  noonday  sun  and  their  zeal  had  made  them 
very  hot. 


308  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  There  comes  your  pious  father !"  declaimed  the  young 
enthusiast,  who  always  spoke  in  quotations.  "Now, 
brothers,  let  us  fly  !" 

And  partly  fear  of  the  "black  coat,"  partly  hunger, 
drove  the  noisy  group  to  the  table.  They  departed 
waving  their  hats,  nodding,  and  singing ;  and  Cornelia 
was  still  looking  after  them  with  a  smile,  when  Severinus 
approached  with  a  pale,  gloomy  face. 

"  Such  ovations  certainly  do  nut  prepare  oue  for  the 
church,"  he  murmured,  somewhat  bitterly. 

"Ah,  Severinus!  I  am  so  happy!"  cried  Cornelia, 
frankly.  "  What  open-hearted,  gay,  magnificent  men 
they  are!  How  I  laughed!  It  is  a  pity  you  were  not 
here  !  Tell  me,  Father  Severiuus, — you  are  sincere, — 
am  I  really  as  beautiful  as  they  all  say?"  she  asked, 
with  mischievous  naivete. 

Severiuus  looked  timidly  away  from  her,  and  with  a 
deep  flush  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  ground.  "  I  do  not 
know." 

"  You  don't  know  ?" 

"I  think  only  your  soul  beautiful,  but  not  your  body. 
Physical  beauty  is  something  so  perishable  that  it  is  un- 
heeded by  one  who  perceives,  and  knows  how  to  value, 
that  of  the  soul." 

Cornelia  became  embarrassed.  She  was  ashamed  of 
the  want  of  reserve  which  had  induced  her  to  ask  Sev- 
erinus so  inappropriate  a  question,  and  did  not  see  the 
strange  glance  with  \\hich  he  gazed  at  her  blooming 
cheeks  and  lips,  and  then  clinched  his  teeth. 

"  Forgive  me  for  disturbing  your  grave  mood  with 
such  jests,  my  reverend  friend  ;  but  I  cannot  help  it. 
The  gayety  natural  to  my  youth  will  sometimes  assert 
its  rights.  I  was  very  glad  they  thought  me  beautiful. 
The  sight  of  a  lovely  face  is  always  a  pleasure  to  me, 
and  the  idea  that  my  appearance  could  also  rejoice  the 
fvi-s  and  hearts  of  others  pleased  me.  If  this  is  vanity, 
it  i.s,  at  least,  very  innocent." 

"  Certainly,  my  child,"  said  Severinus,  and  his  tone 
gradually  lost  its  assumed  harshness.  "  I  will  not  embitter 
the  harmless  little  pleasures  of  your  youth.  I  am  sure 
they  will  not  smother  the  earnestness  of  your  nature." 


LIGHT  AND   SHADOW.  309 

"  Severinus,"  said  Cornelia,  smiling1,  "isn't  it  a  fact 
that  you  do  not  know  what  hunger  is  F" 

"  No,  certainly  not.  But  you  seem  to  know  ;  so  come, 
— let  us  go  to  dinner." 

Cornelia  was  glad  to  have  put  an  end  to  the  uncom- 
fortable conversation,  and  hastened  lightly  on  before  him. 
Since  her  joy  in  life  was  once  more  awakened,  and  hope 
and  cheerfulness  again  stirred  within  her,  she  felt  Sev- 
erinus's  gloomy  mood  as  a  heavy  burden.  As  long  as 
she  was  at  variance  with  her  own  heart  and  the  world, 
the  character  of  the  ascetic  priest  suited  her  better  than 
aught  else ;  but  now  it  began  to  form  a  disagreeable  con- 
trast with  her  mood,  and  cast  a  shadow  over  the  newly- 
risen  sun  of  her  love.  Yet  she  was  too  grateful  to  forget 
for  a  moment  what  consolation  his  assistance  had  afforded 
her  in  the  time  of  her  heavy  visitation ;  so  she  main- 
tained an  unaltered,  frank  cordiality  towards  him, 
although  he  now  began  to  torture  her  with  a  thousand 
contradictions  and  absurdities. 

The  scene  with  the  artists,  innocent  as  it  was  in  itself, 
seemed  to  have  made  Severinus  very  thoughtful,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  pleasure  Cornelia  derived  from  it.  Such 
impressions  must  be  kept  from  her  at  any  cost,  for  they 
were  not  adapted  to  aid  his  work  of  conversion.  Even 
if  he  should  remove  her  from  the  neighborhood,  he  could 
not  prevent  these  young  enthusiasts  from  traveling  after 
her.  He  therefore  went  to  the  superior  of  the  convent 
on  the  island,  and,  when  he  returned,  brought  an  invita- 
tion from  her  to  Cornelia  to  take  up  her  residence  in  the 
cloister,  "  as  it  was  not  proper  for  a  young  girl,  with  an 
equally  young  companion,  to  remain  in  a  country  inn 
with  a  party  of  gay  young  men."  Cornelia,  who  did  not 
care  where  she  lodged,  easily  allowed  herself  to  be  per- 
suaded to  fulfill  Severinus's  wish,  and  accept  the  friendly 
superior's  offer.  Her  removal  to  the  cloister  took  place 
immediately,  and  the  astonished  hostess  told  the  artists, 
on  their  return  from  an  excursion,  that  the  beautiful 
Fraulein  Erwing  had  just  entered  a  convent.  They  were 
beside  themselves  at  the  news,  for  who  could  doubt  that 
the  poor  victim  of  the  black  coat  had  been  brought  here 
to  commence  her  novitiate  ?  Thus  Severinus's  design  of 


310  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

spreading  a  halo  of  inaccessibility  around  Cornelia,  and 
cutting  off  any  intrusive  pursuit,  was  effectually  attained  ; 
but  that  neither  she  nor  her  coTnpauiou  should  betray  the 
truth  in  their  unavoidable  walks,  it  was  necessary  that 
t  hey  should  be  taken  away  with  all  secrecy.  On  that 
very  evening  Severinus  excited  Cornelia's  interest  in  the 
B Oberland  to  such  a  degree  that  she  herself  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  continue  her  journey  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, and  he  was  merely  fulfilling  her  own  desire  when  he 
proposed  that  they  should  leave  the  island  at  daybreak, 
not  to  return.  As  no  one  saw  or  heard  anything  of  this 
departure,  Cornelia  was,  and  remained,  in  the  convent, 
whose  strict  seclusion  made  any  inquiries  impossible,  and 
the  young  artists  grieved  deeply  that  the  world  was 
robbed  of  so  much  beauty. 

Meantime  Severinus  took  the  supposed  victim  farther 
and  farther  away,  and  several  months  passed  so  quickly 
in  the  constant  change  from  one  beautiful  scene  to  an- 
other, and  in  grave  but  intellectually  exciting  conversa- 
tion with  Severinus,  that  she  was  not  conscious  how 
skillfully  he  managed  to  cut  her  off  from  all  society. 
Priests  and  nuns  were  the  only  persons  with  whom  she 
held  occasional  intercourse  ;  and  she  passed  them  by  with 
friendly  indifference,  which  rendered  any  advances  im- 
possible. Severinus's  hopes  of  a  con  version  drooped  more 
and  more  ;  he  could  not  conceal  from  himself  that  a  sor- 
row was  gnawing  at  his  soul  which  exhausted  his  best 
powers,  and  felt,  with  increasing  despair,  that  he  should 
succumb  himself  before  he  could  conquer  Cornelia's  reso- 
lute temper. 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  3H 

XXIII. 
BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND  EARTH. 

SEVERINUS  entered  Cornelia's  room  one  evening  when 
they  were  to  spend  the  night  in  a  peasant's  house  in  the 

B forest.  She  was  standing  at  the  window,  gazing 

out  into  the  sultry  night.  The  sky  arched  over  the  earth 
like  a  leaden-hued  canopy;  not  a  breath  of  air  was  stir- 
ring, not  a  leaf  moved  on  the  trees ;  here  and  there  a 
star  gleamed  forth  where  the  dense  masses  of  clouds 
parted  for  a  moment,  and  now  and  then  a  distant  flash  of 
lightning  glittered  in  the  horizon,  revealing  the  dim  out- 
lines of  the  forest-crowned  heights.  "  Severinus,"  she 
said,  drawing  a  long  breath,  as  she  turned  toward  him, 
"  let  us  go  out  into  the  open  air  before  the  storm  breaks : 
the  air  is  so  oppressive  here ;  perhaps  it  is  cooler  outside." 

"  I  have  come  to  speak  to  you  about  very  serious  sub- 
jects :  it  will  be  better  for  us  to  stay  here,"  said  Severinus. 
And  now  for  the  first  time  Cornelia  noticed  his  gloomy 
expression,  and  looked  with  anxious  expectation  into  his 
face. 

"  Cornelia,  the  time  when  your  fate  must  be  decided 
has  arrived.  The  day  of  election  is  approaching.  I  must 
not  allow  Ottmarto  move  forward  unrestrained  upon  the 
road  in  which  he  can  only  bring  ruin  upon  our  church. 
If  he  is  elected  to  the  parliament,  a  powerful  enemy  will 
arise  against  us.  I  have  already  told  you  what  papers 
the  order  has  in  its  hands:  they  must  be  used  now,  if 
they  are  not  to  become  useless.  Let  Ottmar  be  a  deputy  ; 
let  him  speak,  and — as  is  to  be  foreseen — win  the  masses, 
and  everything  we  undertake  against  him  will  be  in  vain. 
The  last  point  of  time  is  reached,  when  I  must  decide 
what  is  to  be  done." 

"  And  that  is  a  publication  of  his  relations  with  Jesuit- 
ism, the  destruction  of  the  toilsomely  obtained  confidence 
of  his  party,  in  order  to  prevent  his  election.  Am  I  not 
right?" 


312  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

I 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  do  you  not  know  that  you  will  not  convert  a 
man  like  Ottmar  by  such  means,  but  simply  render  him 
miserable?" 

"We  wish  to  make  him  harmless, — nothing  more." 

"  But  you  do  far  worse,"  cried  Cornelia,  indignantly. 
"  You  bar  the  path  upon  which  he  might  become  a  better 
man;  hurl  him  back  to  the  cheerless  void  of  a  life  with- 
out a  purpose  :  perhaps  even  entangle  him  in  fresh  snares 
of  falsehood  and  hypocrisy ;  and  thus  destroy  a  nature 
which,  in  its  own  way,  might  accomplish  great  things  for 
the  world.  Who  gives  you  the  right  thus  violently  to 
interfere  with  an  independent  existence  ?" 

"  The  same  right  which  the  government  has  to  punish 
secular  crimes,  we,  as  the  representatives  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  possess  against  him  who  sins  against  God  and 
his  servants." 

"  Severinus,  when  the  government  chastises,  it  repre- 
sents the  insulted  law,  and  uses  honest  means;  but  you 
avenge  only  your  own  boundless  pride,  and  your  weapons 
are  hypocrisy  and  deceit !  Are  you  better  than  he  whom 
you  punish?" 

"  Cornelia  !"  cried  Severinus,  with  flashing  eyes,  "  do 
you  dare  say  that  to  me  ?" 

"  I  have  never  spoken  anything  but  the  truth  all  my 
life.  You  could  not  expect  me  to  call  wrong  right;  and 
if  God  should  descend  to  the  earth  once  more  he  would 
judge  the  zeal  of  those  who  commit  sin  for  his  honor,  and 
misuse  his  name  for  selfish  purposes,  far  more  harshly 
than  the  errors  of  the  men  who  have  deserted  him  in 
form,  but  not  in  reality." 

"  It  is  only  natural  that  the  child  of  the  world  should 
speak  in  her  lover's  favor;  and  I  will  be  patient  now,  as 
I  have  often  been  before.  I  cannot  ask  you  to  perceive 
the  sublimity  of  a  subordination  to  the  will  of  a  chief,  as 
our  order  practices  it.  Our  General  alone  bears  the  re- 
sponsibility;  God  will  call  him  only  to  an  account;  and 
he  can  lay  it  aside  :  for  God  is  higher  than  the  law,  and 
whoever  represents  him  on  earth  cannot  have  his  acts 
measured  by  the  standard  of  earthly  justice  1" 

Cornelia  gazed  at  Severinus  long  and  silently.     "  You 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  313 

told  me  a  short  time  ago  that  you  pitied  me.  Now  I 
must  answer  you  in  the  same  words  :  Severinus,  I  pity 
you!  I  am  not  angry;  but  you  will  perceive  that  from 
tliis  hour  our  paths  must  lie  apart.  If  you  deal  a  blow 
which  will  destroy  Ottmar's  honest  efforts,  it  is  my  duty 
to  be  at  his  side." 

"  Cornelia,  it  is  in  your  power  to  avert  this  dangerous 
blow." 

"How?" 

"The  order  has  determined  to  give  up  the  papers  to 
you  at  the  price  of  your  conversion  to  Catholicism.  The 
order  feels  itself  justified  in  resigning  the  pursuit  of  this 
faithless  man,  if  it  can  thereby  win  for  the  good  cause 
another  soul,  which  will  be  pleasing  to  God." 

"  Indeed !"  cried  Cornelia,  fixing  a  piercing  glance 
upon  Severinus.  "  Is  it  thus  you  advance  your  work  of 
conversion  ?" 

"  We  leave  you  the  choice  between  the  only  church 
which  can  save  souls  and  your  lover's  prosperity,  or  his 
destruction  and  our  hostility.  Can  you  hesitate  ?" 

Cornelia  stood  before  him  with  noble  dignity.  "  And 
do  you  believe  you  can  win  me  over  to  a  religion  which 
sanctions  such  means  ?  Do  you  think  to  bribe  me  by 
any  advantage — even  the  welfare  of  the  man  I  love — to 
deny  that  which  is  highest  and  most  sacred  to  me :  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  ?  No,  Severinus  ;  I  feel  I  possess 
the  power  to  make  the  man  of  my  heart  happy  without 
being  compelled  to  save  him  from  your  persecution  by 
abjuring  my  own  faith  !" 

"  May  you  not  trust  to  yourself  too  much  ?  He  whom 
we  wish  to  ruin  is  not  so  easily  saved  by  any  one,  even 
the  bold  spirit  of  Cornelia  Erwing!" 

"  Severinus,  you  frighten  me  !  I  never  saw  you  in  this 
mood  before.  I  feel  as  if  in  my  sleep  I  had  wandered 
into  a  tiger's  den,  and  on  awakening  found  myself  shut 
up  alone  with  the  terrible  enemy  1"  She  paused  and 
looked  at  Severinus ;  then  growing  calmer,  shook  her 
head:  "No,  no,  Severinus;  that  is  a  bad  comparison; 
forgive  me  for  it !  Those  pure  eyes  give  the  lie  to  your 
threats;  the  dignity  enthroned  upon  your  brow  cannot 
suffer  you  to  become  the  tool  of  a  base  revenge." 
o  27 


314  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"Cornelia,  you  will  never  learn  to  understand  the 
nature  of  Jesuitism.  I  am  no  blind  tool  \vbo  mechani- 
cally performs  what  is  imposed  upon  him,  but  a  living 
part  of  the  whole,  who  abhors  what  injures  the  order, 
and  labors  for  its  advantage.  Our  obedience  is  no  mere 
form  which  \ve  can  outwardly  satisfy  without  real  sym- 
pathy: it  is  an  allegiance  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  which 
makes  the  will  it  serves  its  own.  Thus  I  hate  Ottmar, 
since  he  became  faithless  to  his  obligations  towards  us,  as 
the  order  hates  him,  and  will  destroy  him  as  the  order 
commands,  if  you  do  not  comply  with  the  condition  upon, 
which  we  will  spare  him." 

He  watched  Cornelia  for  a  moment,  then  drer,v  out 
some  papers  and  spread  them  upou  the  table  before  her. 
"  Here  are  the  documents  which  are  to  serve  us  as 
weapons  against  Ottmar;  read  them,  and  convince  your- 
self whether  they  will  be  destructive  enough  to  him  to 
outweigh  the  sacrifice  you  must  make  to  secure  his  safety." 

Cornelia  looked  over  the  papers,  the  very  ones  with 
which  years  before  Severinus  had  succeeded  in  intimidat- 
ing Ottmar,  and  binding  upon  him  the  chains  he  now 
wished  to  strip  off.  When  she  had  finished,  she  gazed 
sorrowfully  into  vacancy. 

"  This  is  certainly  material  enough  to  devise  a  snare 
for  him.  Oh,  Severinus,  throw  these  papers  into  the  tire, 
and  I  will  revere  you  as  a  saint !" 

"It  will  only  cost  you  a  few  words,  Cornelia.  Say, 
'I  will  become  a  Catholic,'  and  these  papers  are  yours!" 

Cornelia  drew  herself  up  proudly.  "I  have  already 
told  you  that  I  would  drive  no  bargain  with  my  con- 
victions. This  is  my  final  resolution  !" 

"  Noble  woman  !"  thought  Severinus,  gazing  at  her  in 
astonishment. 

Cornelia  gathered  up  the  documents,  restored  them  to 
the  priest,  then  clasped  her  hands,  and  gazed  into  his 
face  with  her  irresistible  charm.  "  Severinus,  give  me 
these  papers." 

A  long  pause  ensued.  The  priest  was  absorbed  in 
watching  the  beautiful  face,  and  made  no  reply. 

Cornelia  took  his  hand ;  he  started  back. 

"  Severinus,  for  once,  be  more  obedient  to  the  law  of 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  315 

love  and  forbearance  God  has  written  in  our  hearts,  than 
the  stern  commands  of  your  order  ;  destroy  these  proofs 
of  Ileinrich's,  and  also  your,  dishonor, — or  give  them 
to  me  that  I  may  do  so.  You  do  not  answer  !  Oh,  let 
my  entreaties  move  you,  dear,  honored  friend  !" 

Severinus  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  ex- 
claimed, almost  imploringly:  "Cease,  Cornelia;  you 
know  not  what  you  are  doing." 

"I  am  well  aware  of  it, — I  am  torturing  you  ;  for  I 
am  bringing  you  into  a  conflict  with  what  you  believe  to 
be  your  duty.  I  see  the  struggle  between  your  Jesuit's 
conscience  and  your  heart.  True,  genuine  manhood 
will  conquer  ;  it  will  burst  the  fetters  in  which  your 
whole  life  is  bound." 

She  rushed  to  the  table,  took  up  a  light,  and  held  it 
towards  Severinus,  that  he  might  set  the  papers  on  fire. 
A  gust  of  air  that  blew  through  the  open  window  made 
the  flame  flicker  to  and  fro,  and  her  light  dress  float 
around  her  like  a  cloud.  As  she  stood  thus  with  the  arm 
that,  held  the  candle  raised  high  above  her  head,  bathed 
in  the  red  gleam  of  the  flickering  light,  in  the  earnestness 
of  her  enthusiasm, — half  pleading,  half  commanding, — 
she  seemed  like  an  angel  ;  and  without  knowing  what  he 
was  doing  he  threw  the  papers  towards  her,  bent  down, 
and  pressed  the  hem  of  her  dress  to  his  lips. 

"  I  thank  you  !"  cried  Cornelia.  But  ere  she  could 
gather  up  the^  scattered  papers  Severiuus  recollected 
himself,  and  caught  her  hand. 

"Stop!  these  papers  are  riot  yours  nor  mine;  they 
belong  to  the  order  which  intrusted  them  to  my  care, 
and  only  an  evil^spirit  could  have  so  bewildered  rny 
mind  that  I  wavered  in  my  duty."  He  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  pressed  his  hands  tightly  upon  his  henrr,, 
and  softly  murmured  the  "Anima  Christi,  sanct\fi(a 
/?j6,"*then  collected  the  papers  and  went  to  the  window. 
The  rain  was  pouring  in  torrents;  he  leaned  out  and  let 
the  cool  water  drench  his  head.  "  Extinguish,  oh,  ex- 
tinguish the  fire  !"  he  prayed,  looking  up  with  a  deep 
sigh  at  the  dark  watery  masses  of  clouds. 

*A  Jesuit  prayer. 


316  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

Cornelia  watched  him  with  mingled  surprise  and 
grief.  "  Severinus,  you  are  playing  a  part  with  yourself, 
like  all  who  hold  ideas  founded  on  sophisms  and  principles 
contrary  to  nature  ;  you  must  do  so,  at  a  moment  when 
your  illusion  forms  so  striking  a  contrast  with  the  truth. 
I  can  only  pity  you ;  but  may  God  let  those  who  made 
you  a  Jesuit, — who  robbed  you  of  the  world  and  the 
world  of  you, — reap  the  fruits  of  their  deed  !" 

"  Do  not  blame  them,"  replied  Severinus,  turning 
calmly  away  from  the  window.  "  They  were  my  pa- 
rents, and  both  are  dead.  I,  too,  have  often  cursed  them 
for  giving  me  life;  but  since  I  became  a  Jesuit,  I  bless 
them." 

"  Unhappy  man,  what  secret  weighs  upon  the  past 
which  you  have  hitherto  so  closely  concealed?" 

"  Disgrace,  girl !  To  you  alone  I  will  confess  it,  that 
some  day  you  may  think  of  me  more  kindly  when  we  are 
parted.  I  have  no  name  save  that  the  church  gave  me  ; 
no  father  save  God ;  no  home  save  the  Casa  al  Gesu  ;  no 
human  dignity  save  that  of  my  holy  office.  If  I  had 
belonged  to  the  world,  I  should  have  been  an  outcast. 
But  my  parents  turned  the  curse  into  a  blessing  when 
they  dedicated  to  Heaven  the  life  they  denied  on  earth  ; 
and  for  the  sake  of  that  deed  may  God  pardon  the  sin 
which  gave  me  birth  !"  He  raised  his  head,  while 
his  face  kindled  with  enthusiastic  feeling.  "  But  I, 
Cornelia,  will  devote  my  strength,  to  my  latest  breath, 
to  that  Jesuitism  which  accomplished  the  miracle  of 
making  the  child  of  sin  the  supporter  of  the  highest  and 
holiest  cause,  which  produces  everything  great  and  noble 
that  can  be  done  for  the  honor  of  God,  and  desires  no- 
thing except  by  all  means,  both  mild  and  gentle,  to 
lead  men  to  heaven." 

Cornelia  gazed  thoughtfully  into  vacancy,  then  sud- 
denly looked  earnestly  at  the  regular  features  of  the 
handsome  man  before  her. 

"  Severinus,"  she  said,  with  strange  eagerness,  "  who 
was  your  father  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  ;  I  never  saw  him." 

"  Did  your  mother  tell  you  nothing  about  him  ?  or  did 
you  not  know  her  either?" 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  3 If 

"  She  could  tell  me  nothing  except  how  she  loved  him, 
and  how  he  had  deceived  her.  His  accent  betrayed  that 
he  was  a  German,  but  he  concealed  his  name  and  resi- 
dence. When  I  was  scarcely  a  year  old  he  disappeared, 
and  no  longer  gave  my  mother  any  signs  of  existence  ex- 
cept the  remittance,  through  some  unknown  hand,  of 
money  for  my  education  upon  the  condition  that  I  should 
become  a  priest." 

"And  your  mother  ;  what  was  her  name?" 

"  Girl,  why  do  you  ask  me  all  these  questions?" 

"  You  shall  learn  the  reason  after  you  have  told  me 
who  your  mother  was." 

"  I  have  no  right  to  expose  the  name  of  the  unhappy 
woman,  and  have  never  mentioned  it  to  any  one." 

"  Not  even  to  Heinrich  ?" 

"  I  never  disclosed  the  secret  of  my  past  to  him." 

Cornelia  approached  him  ;  her  breath  came  more 
quickly.  "Was  your  mother's  name  Angelina,  Sever- 
inus  ?"  said  she,  her  voice  tremulous  with  some  secret 
emotion. 

Severinus  gazed  at  her  in  astonishment.  "  Yes,  yes  ; 
how  did  you  know  ?" 

"Was  she  the  sister  of  a  Carmelite  monk  in  Com- 
patri  ?" 

"  Where  did  you  learn  this  ?"  exclaimed  Severinus, 
greatly  agitated.  "  What  connection  have  you  with  my 
past?  Speak;  of  what  are  you  thinking?  Your  eyes 
sparkle,  your  cheeks  glow  ;  do  not  torture  me." 

"Are  you  your  mother's  only  child  ?" 

"  So  truly  as  she  expiated  all  her  remaining  days  in  a 
cloister,  the  one  error  of  her  life." 

"  Then  God  has  sent  me  to  you  to  warn  you  at  the 
right  time  not  to  commit  a  most  grievous  wrong.  Do 
you  know  who  the  man  is  whom  you  thus  inexorably 
pursue  ?" 

A  suspicion  began  to  arise  in  Severinus's  mind ;  he  re- 
coiled and  extended  his  hands  repellently,  as  if  he  feared 
the  words  that  hovered  upon  Cornelia's  lips. 

"  He  is  your  brother  I"  she  cried,  tears  gushing  from 
he,r  eyes. 

Severinus  involuntarily  pressed  his  hand  upon  his 
27* 


318  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

brow,  his  fingers  quivered  slightly  as  they  touched  the 
broad  scar  upon  it,  and  he  gazed  absently  before  him  as 
if  in  a  dream. 

"  Oh,  do  not  crush  the  feeling  that  stirs  in  your  heart! 
Give  me  your  h:md,  and  let  me  tell  you  how  warmly  I 
pivot  the  brother  of  my  beloved  !  Oh,  God,  to  see  the 
two  men  dearest  to  me  on  earth  united,  the  souls  which 
always  struggled  with  each  other,  and  yet  could  never 
resist  the  impulse  of  sympathy,  reconciled  in  brotherly 
love!  And  it  is  I,  I  who  am  permitted  to  bring  you 
together,  to  give  you  to  each  other!  Ah,  my  friend,  this 
is  inexpressible  joy  !" 

"And  are  you  so  sure  you  are  not  deceiving  yourself?" 
asked  Severinus,  gloomily. 

"Deceiving?  Oh,  you  incredulous  man  !  Heinrich's 
father  is  yours  also.  Ten  years  before  his  marriage  in 
Germany  he  traveled  in  Italy.  In  wild,  romantic  Com- 
patri  he  was  attracted  by  the  beauty  of  your  mother, 
Angelina,  who  was  living  in  the  greatest  povert}'  upon 
the  products  of  her  vines  and  the  scanty  gifts  of  the 
Carmelite  convent  in  that  place,  then  falling  to  decay. 
He  took  her  to  Rome,  and  remained  there  two  years, — 
until  his  duties  compelled  him  to  return  to  Germany  nnd 
desert  Angelina,  with  her  eleven-months-old  boy.  What 
afterwards  became  of  her  and  her  child,  Heiurich  did  not 
know." 

"And  how  did  Ileinrich  happen  to  tell  you  this?" 

"  He  told  me  a  great  many  things  about  bis  father's 
life." 

"And  where  did  he  learn  this  sad  history?" 

"  From  Anton,  who,  as  valet,  accompanied  old  Herr 
von  Ottmar  on  his  travels,  and  whose  statements  were 
confirmed  by  the  dead  man's  papers.  Heinrich  did  not 
then  foresee  how  important  this  discovery  might  some 
day  become.  But  if  all  this'  is  not  sufficient  proof  for 
you,  question  your  own  heart;  remember  what  an  inex- 
plicable affection  still  bound  you  to  Heinrich,  even  after 
you  believed  him  lost  to  the  church.  Does  not  this 
impulse  of  the  heart  harmonize  with  all  that  has  been  so 
strangeh'  revealed  to  you  ?  Oh,  you  feel  it  yourself  at 
this  moment!  I  see  it  by  the  tears  that  will  steal  out 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  319 

from  beneath  your  lashes  ;  you  feel,  you  believe,  that  ho 
is  your  brother !" 

Severinus  covered  his  face.  "  lie  is  !  he  is  !  Oh,  God, 
and  I  must  ruin  my  brother !" 

"Thank  God,"  cried  Cornelia,  joyously,  "you  are 
moved,  touched  !  The  voice  of  blood  is  again  stirring 
within  you  ;  you  will  be  reconciled  to  him,  will  spare  him  ! 
Oh,  say  you  will  !" 

Severinus  raised  his  head  and  leaned  against  the 
window-sill ;  the  tears  that  Cornelia  had  seen  in  his  eyes 
were  dried.  "  Do  you  believe  that  a  pupil  of  Loyola  will 
listen  to  the  voice  of  blood  ?  Do  you  know  what  the 
saint,  who  is  our  protector  and  pattern,  did  ?  He  burned, 
unread,  the  letters  from  his  own  family,  that  he  might 
break  off  all  ties  with  the  world  ;  and  I,  should  I  spare 
the  enemy  of  my  church  because  he  is  related  to  me? 
Should  1  allow  my  zeal  in  God's  cause  to  grow  cold 
because  my  heart  warms  with  a  mere  animal  instinct? 
No,  Cornelia,  my  brothers  are  in  Christ;  he  who  does 
not  belong  to  him  is  no  brother  of  mine." 

"Cruel,  hard-hearted  man!"  cried  Cornelia,  in  horror. 
"  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  compassion  or  terror  that 
seizes  upon  me,  but  my  soul  trembles  at  the  power  of  an 
illusion  which  can  thus  petrify  the  noblest  heart." 

"Petrify!"  cried  Severinus.  "Oh,  do  not  speak  so, 
child  that  you  are!  Have  you  ever  cast  a  glance  into 
this  '  petrified  heart'  ?  Have  you  a  suspicion  of  the 
strength  of  the  love  I  must  tear  away  from  earth  and 
consecrate  to  God  ?  Have  you  ever  heard  the  outcry  of 
the  tortured  man  when  he  is  obliged  to  accomplish  his 
regeneration  from  earthly  to  heavenly  things  ?  Do  you 
know  how  mighty  nature  writhes  and  struggles  and 
groans  under  the  prickly  iron  ring  of  the  cilicium  ?*  You 
are  spared  these  agonies,  because  God  requires  only  tho 
easiest  sacrifice?  from  you  ;  but  we,  who  are  appointed  to 
be  the  imitators  of  Christ  upon  earth,  are  compelled  to 
taste  them  to  the  dregs.  We  must  fulfill  our  great  task, 
and  no  human  eye  is  permitted  to  see  that  the  sacrifice 
it  admires  trickles  from  the  warm  heart's  blood." 

*  An  instrument  used  bj  the  Jesuits  for  penance  and  punishment. 


320  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"My  poor  Severinus!" 

"  Do  not  pity  me  ;  I  want  no  one's  compassion.  I  only 
want  you  to  understand  me;  the  more  difficult  the  victory, 
the  greater  the  fame.  I  shall  one  day  be  proud  of  my 
tortures.  But  I  must  labor  without  rest  or  sleep,  and 
watch  over  myself  at  every  hour,  for  the  enemy  is  cun- 
ning, and  if  he  chooses  can  clothe  himself  in  the  garb  of 
an  angel."  His  large  eyes  rested  ardently  upon  Cornelia. 

"  Severinus,"  she  answered,  sadly,  "do  you  take  me 
for  this  false  angel, — me,  who  preach  nothing  to  you 
except  the  first  and  simplest  laws  of  Christianity  ?  Do 
you  think  the  '  foul  fiend'  is  in  me,  because  I  oppose  a 
belief  which  rejects  the  purest  impulse  of  nature  a-  a 
mere  animal  instinct,  if  it  is  not  of  use  to  its  plans, — 
denies  the  tie  God  himself  has  hallowed,  if  it  bars  its 
progress,  and  acknowledges  nothing  which  does  not " 

"  Redound  to  the  greater  honor  of  God,"  interrupted 
Severinus.  "  Yes,  we  do  all  for  the  honor  of  God.  That  is 
vhe  word  which  permits  no  false  meaning  ;  the  path  from 
which  we  cannot  deviate  an  inch  ;  the  object  from  which 
we  dare  not  turn  o«r  eyes,  even  though  we  trample  under- 
foot the  bodies  of  our  dearest  friends.  He  who  opposes 
us  must  fall,  for  we  cannot  allow  ourselves  to  be  stopped. 
For  the  honor  of  God  we  live,  and  are  ready  to  die." 

"And  are  you  sure  that  in  this  you  act  only  for  the 
honor  of  God?  Are  you  sure  you  do  not  abuse  this 
great  word  as  a  pretext  for  an  act  of  selfishness  ?" 

Severinus  looked  at  her  inquiringly. 

She  struggled  with  her  feelings,  and  then  began,  gently: 
"Tell  me,  my  friend,  if  in  the  execution  of  a  punishment 
commanded  by  the  order  a  Jesuit  should  also  find  the 
gratification  of  a  personal  desire  for  revenge,  would  he 
not  profane  the  cause  of  God  by  making  it  his  own  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Severiuus,  in  a  hollow  tone,  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  the  floor. 

"  There  are  many  kinds  of  passions,  of  which  the  man 
who  ardently  desires  only  what  is  right  is  scarcely  con- 
scious, because  he  does  not  even  allow  them  to  take  the 
form  of  a  thought ;  yet  they  are  there,  and  the  so-called 
foul  fiend  undermines  in  them  the  more  securely,  because 
concealed,  the  toilsomely-erected  structure  of  virtue.  Let 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  321 

me  quote  an  example.  Suppose  a  Jesuit  hated  an  enemy 
of  his  order,  not  only  because  the  order  hates  him,  but 
because  he  is  loved  by  a  girl  who  is  dear  to  the  Jesuit 
himself?" 

Severinus  started  ;  a  deep  flush  suffused  his  face. 

Cornelia  continued:  "  Suppose  he  used  against  him  the 
weapons  the  order  placed  in  his  hands,  not  for  the  sake  of 
the  church,  but  to  serve  the  instincts  of  his  own  jealousy, 
and  should  suddenly  perceive  what  he  had  not  confessed, 
even  to  himself,  what  would  be  his  duty  then  ?" 

Severinus  was  now  as  pale  as  he  had  before  been  red. 
He  stood  like  a  marble  statue,  not  a  breath  stirred  his 
breast;  but  at  last  his  delicate  lips  opened  to  utter  the 
words,  "  Then  it  would  be  his  duty  to  resign  the  work 
he  would  profane  to  another,  who  could  perform  it  with 
pure  hands,  solely  for  the  sake  of  God  and  the  order." 

"Well,  then,  Severinus,  do  what  you  believe  to  be 
your  duty.  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

A  deep  silence  followed.  Severinus  still  stood  motion- 
less, and  Cornelia  did  not  venture  to  look  at  him  ;  she  did 
not  wish  to  read  the  pale  face.  She  was  terrified  at  what, 
for  Heinrich's  sake,  she  had  done  to  this  noble  man,  and 
involuntarily  feared  the  results. 

Severinus  slowly  approached  her,  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  head,  and  said,  "  Let  us  bid  each  other  farewell." 

Cornelia  looked  up.  The  pure  features  expressed  no 
bitterness,  no  anger,  only  the  repose  of  an  immovable 
resolution.  "  Farewell?"  she  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  For  life  !" 

Remorse  suddenly  seized  upon  her.  She  had  over- 
stepped the  bounds  of  womanly  delicacy,  and  pitilessly 
assailed  the  heart  which,  in  spite  of  its  errors,  she  had 
always  seen  rise  superior  to  every  weakness.  She  now 
felt  for  the  first  time  how  much  she  should  lose  in  him, 
and,  with  sincere  shame,  bent  down,  and  before  he  could 
prevent  it,  pressed  her  lips  to  his  hands.  "  Severinus, 
can  you  forgive  me?" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  he  replied,  gently  draw- 
ing back. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  Rome." 


322  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

"  And  what  takes  you  to  Rome  so  suddenly?" 

"I  had  already  resolved  to  return  there  some  weeks 
nir<>;  only  the  hope  of  still  winning  you  for  the  church,  and 
the  hostile  mission  against  Heinrieh,  detained  me.  This 
hour  is  the  destruction  of  all  my  plans.  Nothing  is  left 
for  me  to  do  except  to  place  the  papers  intrusted  to  me 
in  the  General's  bands,  and  explain  to  him  that  I  am  un- 
worthy of  his  confidence, — that  I  am  not  fit  for  the  busi- 
ness of  the  world." 

"And  then, — what  will  happen  then?" 

"Then  the  General  will  commit  the  office  I  held  to  an- 
other, and,  if  God  wills,  sanction  the  penance  I  shall 
impose  upon  myself  of  voluntary  seclusion  in  the  monas- 
tery during  the  remainder  of  my  life." 

"  Will  you  retire  from  the  world, — bury  yourself  within 
the  walls  of  a  cloister  !'"' 

"That  I  may  the  more  surely  rise  again  in  God  " 

"And  is  such  a  resolution  compatible  with  your  zeal 
for  the  order?  Suppose  your  office  falls  into  the  hands 
of  A  man  who  will  not  act  with  the  wisdom  and  dignity 
you  have  shown, — who  will  perhaps  injure  the  interests 
and  authority  of  your  association, — would  you  not  re- 
proach yourself  for  having  been  to  blame  for  this  injury 
by  resigning  the  'holy  cause'  into  unworthy  hands?" 

"There  are  many  among  our  ranks  who  are  perfectly 
competent  to  fill  my  place  ;  the  General's  keen  eye  will 
discover  the  right  man.  I  can  perform  my  duties  to  the 
order.  Even  in  the  silence  of  a  convent-cell,  1  can  write 
the  words  with  which  I  should  cheer  souls  and  strengthen 
them  in  the  faith,  and,  in  undisturbed  intercourse  with 
the  Highest  One,  they  will  gain  more  sanctity  and  power 
than  in  the  profane  society  of  the  world.  Nay,  my 
writings  may  perhaps  influence  future  generations  long 
after  spoken  words  have  died  away.  Is  not  such  an 
expectation  edifying  to  true  faith? — such  a  resolution  the 
highest  victory  over  our  earthly  nature?" 

"  A  victory  !  Ob,  Severinus,  do  not  deceive  yourself! 
A  spark  of  the  warm  life  you  wish  to  deny  still  glows  in 
your  breast.  Suppose,  Severinus,  you  should  perceive 
too  late  that  you  had  formed  your  resolution  too  early  ? 
Suppose  you  should  long  despairingly  for  a  breath  of 


BETWEEN  HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  323 

freedom,  and  in  the  suffocating  agony  of  being  walled  up 
alive  in  the  wild  struggle  of  its  contending  elements,  your 
soul  should  forget  itself  and  God,  and  fall  into  the  ap- 
parently liberating  hand  of  Satan  ?" 

Severinus  recoiled  a  step  in  horror.  "  Stop,  I  implore 
you  1" 

But  Cornelia's  unfettered  stream  of  eloquence  would 
not  allow  itself  to  be  repressed.  "  You  go  into  the  clois- 
ter, not  because  you  have  conquered,  but  because  you 
fear  to  yield  ;  you  go  there  to  fly  from  the  battle,  not  to 
rest  after  the  victory ;  but  that  which  would  have  caused 
the  conflict  here  will  go  with  you,  will  disturb  the  peace 
of  your  devout  solitude  ;  and  you  must  conquer  it  with 
anguish  there  as  well  as  here,  can  succumb  to  it  in  the 
narrow  convent-cell  as  well  as  in  God's  wide  world." 

Severinus's  broad  breast  heaved  painfully.  "  Oh,  God  ! 
my  God !  let  me  withstand  this  last  trial !"  he  prayed, 
fervently.  "  Cornelia,  I  do  not  retreat  to  the  cloister  on 
account  of  the  danger,  but  to  fly  from  the  evil  I  abhor ; 
that  I  may  no  longer  see  the  world  that  stands  between 
me  and  heaven,  which  I  hate " 

"  The  world  to  you  is  mankind ;  if  you  detest  the 
former  it  is  for  the  sake  of  the  latter.  But  why  ?  What 
have  men  done  to  you  ?  You  are  a  servant  of  Christ. 
Does  this  humanity,  which  Christ  so  loved  that  he  suf- 
fered and  bled  for  it,  deserve  your  love  less  than  the 
Master's?  Why  do  you  scorn  the  race  whose  form 
a  God  did  not  hesitate  to  assume, — for  which  a  God 
bore  the  tortures  of  life  and  death  ?  Has  it  injured  you 
more  than  him  ?  It  has  not  pressed  upon  your  brow  the 
crown  of  thorns;  it  has  not  nailed  you  to  the  cross;  and 
yet  he  could  forgive,  while  you  cannot !" 

"A  God  might  do  this, — but  I  am  a  man!" 

"And  do  you  know  why  you  hate  mankind?  Because 
you  dare  not  love  like  a  human  being.  You  curse  your 
own  earthly  nature,  because  it  always  opposes  your  task. 
You  are  a  man,  and  would  fain  be  a  god  ;  you  have  human 
passions,  and  desire  to  practice  a  divine  Re  If- sacrifice. 
This  is  the  fatality  of  your  position,  this  the  foul  fiend 
you  fear  !  Oh,  I  know  my  words  fall  upon  you  as  the 
surges  dash  against  a  rock,  but  it  seems  as  if  a  higher 


324  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

power  urged  me  on  to  struggle  again  and  again  against 
the  unhappy  errors  of  your  church  !" 

"  Cornelia,"  cried  Severinus,  starting  up,  "  my  church 
does  not  err, — she  is  infallible  I" 

"  But,  I  tell  you,  it  is  an  error  that  Christ  has  required 
of  his  priests  what  the  church  demands  from  you.  If 
Christ  was  God,  it  is  presumption  for  you  mortals  to  im- 
itate his  divine  persou,  and  attempt  to  give  the  world  an 
example  of  what  you  do  not  attain  yourselves.  You  are 
merely  to  announce  it  and  show  it  in  all  its  beauty  in 
yourselves.  But  how  can  you  do  this, — shut  off  from 
life  behind  convent  walls  ?  Only  when,  like  our  ministers, 
in  real  life,  before  the  eyes  of  a  whole  parish,  oppressed 
by  the  same  anxieties,  pursued  by  the  same  enemies,  as- 
sailed by  the  same  temptations  as  all,  you  can  practice 
the  virtues  you  preach,  will  you  become  a  true  represen- 
tative of  the  Christian  religion,  will  you  have  a  right  to 
require  of  others  what  was  not  too  difficult  for  yourself, 
and  be  what  Christ  desires,  a  true,  perfect  man  !" 

Severinus  hastily  approached  the  door  :  his  whole  man- 
ner betrayed  tokens  of  violent  emotion.  "  I  dare  not 
listen  to  you  longer,  terrible,  dangerous  woman  !  God 
sees  my  anguish  that  I  cannot  save  your  soul,  make  your 
noble  powers  useful  to  the  good  cause.  In  you  all  the 
hostile  powers  of  the  world  assume  a  bodily  form  ;  in  you 
I  have  convinced  myself  that  I  am  no  match  for  them, 
and  only  the  repentance  of  a  whole  life  can  atone  for  the 
weakness !" 

"Must  I,  then,  lose  you  forever  ?" 

"Forever!  But  my  prayers  will  be  with  you, — 
implore  the  protection  of  the  Holy  Virgin  for  you."  His 
voice  trembled.  "  God  cannot  let  such  a  soul  go  to  de- 
struction !"  He  turned  and,  with  averted  face,  opened 
the  door. 

Then  Cornelia's  sincere  affection  burst  forth  in  all  its 
fervor  ;  she  rushed  up  to  him,  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  with  childlike  contrition  laid  her  bead  upon  his 
breast.  "Will  you  go  without  a  farewell  ?"  she  cried, 
sobbing.  "Ah,  Severinus,  a  deep,  inexpressible  pity  for 
you  overwhelms  me  1  Poor,  noble  man,  I  loved  vou  so 
dearly!" 


REGENERATION.  325 

Severinus  stood  as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  struck  him  ;  he 
did  not  move  a  finger,  did  not  clasp  Cornelia  to  his  heart 
or  push  her  from  him.  But  suddenly  a  cry  of  anguish 
burst  from  his  compressed  lips,  so  full  of  torture  that 
Cornelia's  very  soul  was  filled  with  terror,  and  she  no 
longer  ventured  to  detain  him  when,  as  if  driven  by 
some  mortal  dread,  he  hurried  away. 

Late  at  night,  before  she  went  to  rest,  she  saw  him 
wandering  about  in  the  storm  and  rain,  and  before  dawn 
he  entered  the  carriage  which  bore  him  away  from  Cor- 
nelia forever.  He  traveled  without  pausing  until  he 
reached  Home,  where  he  delivered  the  papers  to  the 
General ;  confessed,  resigned  his  office,  and  entered  the 
Casa  al  Gesu  as  a  monk,  to  atone  by  the  strictest  seclu- 
sion for  the  crime  of  being1  a  man. 


XXIV. 

REGENERATION. 

WHILE  Cornelia  was  confidently  looking  forward  to  a 
meeting  with  Ottmar,  proud  in  the  consciousness  of 
having  repelled  all  the  attacks  of  his  enemies,  Heinrich 
was  tortured  by  uncertainty  in  regard  to  her  fate.  Ever 
since  his  return  home,  he  had  lived  exclusively  on  his 
estates,  engaged  in  making  preparations  for  his  new  call- 
ing. In  this  complete  seclusion  from  the  world,  whose 
influence  had  been  so  hostile  to  Cornelia,  engrossed  by 
the  ideas  of  which  she  was  the  charming  representative, 
he  fed  his  longing  for  her  more  and  more.  At  every  step 
in  his  new  career  he  had  expected  some  sign  of  life  from 
her,  but  in  vain.  His  hope  began  to  waver.  He  knew 
that  she  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits,  and  trembled 
lest  her  young,  susceptible  soul,  her  easily  excited  fancy, 
should  not  remain  closed  to  their  influences,  for  then  she 
would  be  irrecoverably  torn  from  him.  He  had  fulfilled 
every  condition  mentioned  in  her  letter.  It  was  not  pos- 
sible that  she  still  loved  him  if,  after  all  this,  she  still 

28 


326  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

persisted  in  her  obstinate  silence.  A  deep  melancholy 
began  to  overpower  him  once  more;  his  prospects  lay 
before  him  like  a  region  destitute  of  sunlight;  his  whole 
career  would  lack  purpose  if  Cornelia  was  not  won  again. 
As  yet  no  success  had  crowned  his  efforts.  He  had  no 
anticipation  of  the  happiness  he  would  feel  if  he  could 
some  day  consider  himself  as  the  true  benefactor  of  a 
whole  nation.  The  quiet  labor  for  his  new  vocation  did 
not  yet  satisfy  him,  and  he  therefore  founded  all  his 
hopes  upon  his  entrance  into  parliament,  and  longed  for 
the  day  of  election  as  the  last  limit  Cornelia  had  perhaps 
allowed  herself.  One  day,  in  his  restlessness,  he  drove 
into  the  city  to  divert  bis  thoughts.  He  wished  to  visit 
the  Exhibition,  and  as  he  went  up  the  broad  staircase  of 
the  museum  he  noticed  with  secret  pleasure  that  people 
whispered  to  each  other,  "That  is  Ottmarl"  and  looked 
at  him  with  interest  and  approval.  He  entered  the  large 
hall  where  reigned  the  solemn  silence  with  which  meu 
receive  into  their  souls  the  wonders  of  art.  The  first  and 
second  rooms  were  empty  of  spectators.  The  dead  and 
yet  lifelike  forms  upon  the  walls  looked  down  upon  him 
with  their  eternal  laughing,  weeping,  or  anger.  An  ex- 
hibition is  a  mute  world  of  a  brilliant-hued  medley  of 
times,  customs,  and  passions,  petrified  as  if  by  some 
magic,  and  imprisoned  in  frames,  condemned  to  remain 
motionless  in  the  attitude  assumed  at  the  moment  when 
the  spell  began  to  work.  There  a  Magdalen  repents 
with  inexhaustible  tears ;  yonder  a  Roman  maiden 
allures,  ever  unsuccessfully,  with  her  motionless,  half- 
opened  lips;  and  here  an  Alva  rages  in  implacable  fury, 
while  close  by  a  Huss  burns  in  never-dying  flames; 
below  a  wolf  snaps  in  unappeasable  hunger  at  a  child, 
which,  fortunately,  he  will  never  reach ;  a  mother  seeks 
to  tear  it  away,  and  cannot  draw  it  to  her  protecting 
breast ;  the  poor  woman  is  condemned  to  perpetual  dread, 
and  the  spectator  with  her.  Not  far  away  is — and  will 
forever  remain — a  pair  of  lovers  in  the  act  of  exchanging 
a  kiss.  Upon  the  other  side  ships  struggle  with  waves, 
nations  contend  in  a  never-decided  battle,  a  vanquished 
man  awaits  the  death-stroke  of  the  conqueror,  and  high 
up,  on  a  golden  background,  flooded  by  the  light  that 


REGENERATION.  327 

streams  through  the  glass  dome,  is  enthroned  the  Virgin, 
iu  her  calm  peace,  surrounded  by  her  heavenly  glory. 

All  the  passions,  joys,  griefs,  and  hopes  of  humanity, 
fixed  and  beautified  by  the  power  of  genius,  displayed 
themselves  to  Heinrich's  wandering  gaze,  but  his 
thoughts  dwelt  only  with  Cornelia;  nay,  it  even  seemed 
as  if  here  and  there  he  found  some  resemblance  to  her. 
One  picture  had  her  eyes,  another  her  profile  or  her 
mouth, — her  brow.  He  fancied  he  saw  her  everywhere; 
it  was  doubtless  a  trick  of  his  excited  imagination,  or  the 
likeness  all  regular  beauties  bear  to  each  other.  He 
passed  on  into  the  third  hall,  which  was  crowded.  Two 
oil-paintings  attracted  the  especial  attention  of  the  public, 
and  the  universal  verdict  pronounced  them  to  be  the  best 
in  the  Exhibition.  It  was  difficult  for  him  to  make  his 
way  in,  but  he  could  scarcely  trust  his  eyes  when  he  saw 
one  of  them, — for  it  was  Cornelia  again  ;  the  likeness  was 
so  speaking  that  no  doubt  was  possible,  and  the  figure 
of  Severinus  beside  her  was  equally  unmistakable.  Both 
were  really  only  minor  accessories  to  a  beautiful  land- 
scape, but  painted  in  a  most  masterly  manner.  They 
were  standing  under  lofty  trees  which  formed  the  fore- 
ground, by  the  shore  of  a  lake,  which,  surrounded  by 
beautiful  mountain-peaks,  stretched  out  into  the  back- 
ground. Severinus  had  one  arm  extended,  pointing  to  a 
church-tower  almost  shrouded  in  mist.  Cornelia,  with 
clasped  hands,  was  looking  up  into  his  lace,  in  the 
catalogue,  the  work  was  merely  named  "View  of  the 
Ch See,  by  A ." 

Heinrich  could  not  understand  it ;  and  when  an  ac- 
quaintance came  up  and  called  his  attention  to  the  other 
famous  painting,  he  turned  carelessly  towards  it ;  but  his 
astonishment  was  inexpressible,  as  here  also  he  found 
Cornelia.  The  figures  were  life-size.  The  picture  repre- 
sented the  moment  before  a  novice  assumes  the  garb  of  a 
nun.  She  was  leaning  upon  the  window-sill  of  a  gloomy 
convent-room,  gazing  up  towards  heaven,  whose  brilliant 
blue  gleamed  through  the  bars,  while  a  green  branch, 
,- waved  by  the  wind,  tossed  against  the  rusty  iron 
gratings.  The  artist,  by  a  singular  fancy,  had  drawn  his 
principal  figure  with  her  back  towards  the  spectators, 


328  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

probably  to  show  in  all  its  magnificence  the  beautiful 
brown  hair  which  was  so  soon  to  fall  under  the  scissors. 
But  the  bright  panes  of  the  window,  which  opened  in- 
wards, revealed  the  face,  upraised  in  fervent  prayer. 
This  face  was  Cornelia's,  as  well  as  the  hair  he  had  so 
often  stroked  ;  the  youthful  neck,  which  the  thin  under- 
garment she  was  soon  to  cover  with  the  nun's  dress, 
lying  close  by,  clearly  revealed,  and  which  he  had  so 
often  admired.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  ;  he  looked  again  and 
again  ;  it  was  still  Cornelia.  A  gloomy,  haggard  prioress 
was  in  the  act  of  advancing  with  the  scissors,  and  a 
sweet-faced  young  nun  was  gazing  with  evident  com- 
passion at  the  beautiful,  devout  novice. 

"  Is  it  not  a  true  work  of  genius  ?"  said  Heinricli's 
companion.  "  The  expression  of  enthusiastic  devotion  in 
the  face  reflected  in  the  window,  and  the  wonderfully 
painted  hair!  One  really  dreads  the  moment  when  that 
stern,  unfeeling  prioress  will  cut  it  off!" 

"  By  whom  was  the  picture  painted  ?''  asked  Heinrich. 

"  By  a  B artist  of  the  name  of  Richard  " 

"  Does  any  one  know  whom  he  had  for  a  model  ?" 
"No;  he  keeps  it  a  profound  secret.     I  could  almost 
believe  he  has — Heaven  knows  howl — witnessed  such  a 
scene.      People  don't  create   such    things   purely   from 
imagination." 

Heinrich  made  no  reply,  and  his  acquaintance,  per- 
ceiving his  strange  emotion,  withdrew. 

Ottmar  went  from  one  picture  to  another;  but  reflect 
and  consider  as  he  would,  one  thing  only  was  clear  to 
him,  that  Cornelia  must  have  sat  to  these  artists  herself, 
for  such  a  resemblance  could  not  be  accidental ;  and 
although  the  window-panes  in  one  picture  reflected  her 
face  but  dimly,  it  was  all  the  more  unmistakable  in  the 
other, — and  Severinus  too.  So  in  this  way  she  had  con- 
sented to  make  known  to  the  world  her  connection  with 
Jesuitism  !  She  must  consider  these  relations  an  honor 
of  which  she  publicly  boasted,  and  this  she  could  not  do 
unless  she  had  been  converted  to  Catholicism. — unless 
they  had  impressed  upon  her  mind  the  dogma  of  the 
supremacy  and  infallibility  of  the  one  saving  church. 
There  was  a  mysterious  connection  of  ideas  between  the 


REGENERATION.  329 

two  pictures  ;  and  although  he  would  not  give- way  to  it, 
it  oppressed  his  heart  with  a  torturing  dread.  The 
words  "  people  don't  create  such  things  purely  from 
imagination"  still  rang  in  his  ears.  Suppose  the  artist 
had  really  taken  the  idea  of  his  work  from  the  fact  that 
Cornelia,  whom  he  perhaps  painted  a  short  time  before, 
had  entered  a  convent?  In  conditions  of  the  soul  like 
that  into  which  he  had  cast  Cornelia,  where  the  whole 
existence  is  pervaded  with  pain,  and  every  foundation  is 
shaken,  the  seeds  of  the  Jesuits  thrive  best;  in  such 
moods  they  most  easily  obtain  a  mastery  over  man. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  it  occurred  to  him  that  her  letter 
had  been  redolent  of  that  pride  of  self-sacrifice,  which, 
after  great  conflicts,  chills  so  many  a  young  heart,  and 
drives  it  into  the  nursery  of  such  virtues,  the  convent. 
Suppose  Cornelia  had  gone  so  far?  It  was  not  impos- 
sible !  Her  enthusiasm  in  everything,  especially  her 
zealous  desire  to  be  of  use,  the  inclination  to  sacrifice 
herself  for  great  ideas  which  she  had  so  often  shown,  her. 
susceptibility  to  the  poesy  of  religion, — all  this  seemed 
to  him  material  enough  to  form  an  agent  of  the  church  ; 
and  as  the  psychological  fathers  would  not  have  ventured 
to  send  such  a  fiery  genius  into  the  world,  they  had  per- 
haps taken  advantage  of  some  moment  of  weakness  to 
imprison  her  in  one  of  the  convents  which  lead  young 
girls  "to  the  heart  of  Jesus."  The  more  Heinfich 
thought  of  this,  the  more  probable  and  clear  it  appeared. 
Urged  on  by  his  agony,  he  hastened  to  ascertain  the 
residences  of  the  two  artists.  He  wished  to  buy  the 
pictures  in  spite  of  their  extremely  high  price, — wished 
to  learn  some  particulars  about  Cornelia.  He  would  and 
must  have  some  certainty;  he  could  not  bear  this  terrible 

doubt.     He  wrote  to   Richard  and  A ,  but  at  the 

same   time   to    Cornelia,   addressing  the   letter   to   the 

Ch See.    Perhaps  the  people  there  knew  her  present 

residence  and  could  send  it  to  her. 

The  reply  of  the  artist  A was  extremely  unsatis- 
factory. He  would  give  no  account -of  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  portrait,  for  he 
had  stolen  her  features  on  that  first  morning  by  the  lake, 
when  Cornelia,  thinking  herself  unobserved,  had  walked 
28* 


330  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

upon  the  shore  with  Severinus.  Richard  wrote :  "The 
lady  had  been  painted  from  memory,  and  he  had  really 
tii Uen  the  subject  of  his  picture  from  the  fact  lhat  she 
had  entered  a  convent,  where  she  had  been  kept  rigidly 
secluded,  since  no  information  concerning  her  had  been 
obtained." 

So  she  had  really  entered  a  convent,  and  there  was  no 
possibility  of  learning  any  further  particulars!  Hein- 
rich's  condition  was  pitiable.  To  wait — to  do  nothing 
but  wait — with  this  burning  longing  and  uncertainty  in 
bis  breast,  for  an  event  which  perhaps  might  never 
occur,  to  hope  for  a  fortunate  dispensation  that  perhaps 
was  already  baffled, — such  was  his  fate!  He  lived  in  a 
feverish  dream,  but  forced  himself  to  enter  with  all  his 
powers  into  what  would  promote  the  decision  of  his  fate, 
his  election  to  the  parliament.  The  newspapers  men- 
tioned his  name  in  connection  with  those  of  the  most 
honored  patriots;  and  if  Cornelia  still  had  free  control 
.over  herself,  she  must  at  least  be  touched  by  the  loyalty 
with  which  he  struggled  to  reach  the  prescribed  goal;  if 
she  were  silent,  then  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  she 
was  lost  to  him.  Just  at  that  time  the  blow  Cornelia 
had  vainly  sought  to  avert  suddenly  fell  upon  him.  The 
Jesuits  executed  their  threats,  but  this  time  in  a  different 
way  from  that  Severinus  bad  adopted  years  before.  The 

organ  of  ultramontauism  in  H printed   an    article 

beaded,  "  Contributions  to  the  Traits  of  Character  of  a 
New  Candidate."  This  essay  contained  a  biography  of 
Ottmar,  from  the  time  of  his  entrance  into  the  Jesuit 
college  to  that  of  his  present  change  of  opinions,  which, 
in  animosity,  distortion  offsets,  and  compromising  indis- 
cretions, surpassed  everything  for  which  Ottmar  had 
given  them  credit.  The  style  was  in  the  so-called  inter- 
e»U  of  the  nation,  so  often  merely  the  cloak  beneath 
which  partisan  writers  strive  to  win  the  applause  of  the 
masses;  but  the  worst  part  of  all  was  that  the  author, 
Geheimrath  Schwelling,  who  years  before  had  played  so 
contemptible  a  part  as  Severinus's  companion  in  the  inter- 
view with  Heinrich,  offered  to  exhibit  to  any  one  who 
might  desire  it  written  proofs  of  most  of  his  accusations. 
There  was  no  lack  of  crtdu'ous  and  doubtful  persons  who 


R  EGENERA  TION.  331 

wished  to  convince  themselves  with  their  own  eyes.  The 
Geheimrath's  house  became  the  rendezvous  of  the  curious 
of  all  parties,  and  the  papers  Severinus  had  returned  to 
the  General  for  a  more  worth}'  use  passed  from  hand  to 
hand.  The  matter  made  all  the  greater  excitement  on 
account  of  tlie  great  expectations  which  had  been  fixed 
upon  Ottmar.  The  sheet  containing  the  scandalous 
article  had  an  immense  circulation ;  and  although  the 
cultivated  portion  of  the  community  turned  with  disgust 
from  its  coarse  tone,  the  facts  were  not  to  be  denied,  and 
people  shrugged  their  shoulders  doubtfully.  But  the 
lower  classes  even  gave  credence  to  the  charges,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  amusement  the  commonplace  wit  of  the 
style  afforded  them.  In  vain  Ottmar's  friends  printed 
articles  in  Jiis  defense  ;  in  vain  his  banker  proved  that  he 
had  spent  the  greater  portion  of  his  property  in  purchasing 
expensive  agricultural  implements,  which  he  allowed  all 
the  country  people  in  the  neighborhood  to  use  gratis,  and 
for  other  national  purposes;  it  was  now  an  easy  matter 
for  his  enemies  to  convince  the  suspicious  masses  that  a 
man  who  had  gone  from  rationalism  to  Jesuitism,  then 
back  ag;iin  to  the  former,  next  to  despotism,  and  finally 
to  liberalism  once  more,  was  not  to  be  trusted  in  any 
relation.  "  Hold  psychological  discussions  about  the 
motives  which  forced  you  to  deny  your  convictions,  you 
will  be  laughed  at,  and  your  name  will  be  branded  before 
all  parties,"  Severinus  had  said  contemptuously  years 
before,  and  now  the  result  proved  how  completely  he  had 
been  in  the  right.  The  facts  spoke  against  him,  and  he 
could  not  succeed  in  giving  the  people  a  correct  under- 
standing of  them,  because  he  had  only  words, — no  con- 
tradictory proofs  at  his  command.  Even  the  sincerity 

with  which  in  N he  had  stood  forth  in  behalf  of  the 

constitution  was  no  longer  acknowledged,  for  the  scan- 
dalous article  rendered  even  this  deed  suspected  as  a 
mere  prudential  measure.  He  had  perceived  that  he 
could  no  longer  hold  his  ground  against  the  progressive 
party,  and  therefore  took  sides  with  them  in  time.  This 
belief  appeared  only  too  probable  in  the  case  of  a  man 
v.'hose  life  had  been  so  full  of  contradictions.  The  con-, 
titit/nce  which  had  just  been  obtained  was  shaken ;  the 


332  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

voters  began  to  hesitate.  Many  forgot  what  they  owed 
him  since  his  return  ;  others  made  all  the  acknowledg- 
ments of  his  services  as  a  public  benefactor  which  were 
his  due  ;  but  even  they  did  not  wish  to  elect,  as  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  most  important  interests,  one  whose 
politics  were  doubtful.  The  day  of  decision  came  and 
crowned  his  enemies'  labors  with  success.  Ottmar  was 
defeated  by  a  large  majority.  He  saw  himself  scorned, 
insulted;  all  his  hopes  crushed,  his  honor  lost;  and  she 
for  whom  he  suffered  such  intolerable  torments,  who  alone 
could  repay  him  for  what  he  had  lost, — Cornelia, — was 
silent !  For  love  of  her  he  had  sacrificed  everything  ;  for 
love  of  her  entered  the  path  which  was  to  lead  him  to 
find  an  abundant  reward  for  ignominy  in  her  arms;  and 
day  by  day  elapsed  without  bringing  any  tidings,  con- 
vincing him  more  and  more  that  she  was  torn  from  him, 
— that  he  had  gained  nothing  save  the  fruits  of  his  sins. 

Every  morning  he  went  to  meet  the  postman,  who 
brought  the  letters  to  his  estate,  and  always  in  vain. 
Fourteen  times  since  the  election  he  had  borne  the  tor- 
tures of  renewed  and  disappointed  hope,  had  rushed 
towards  the  postman  in  breathless  haste  only  to  return  with 
empty  hands.  He  had  lain  awake  on  his  couch  all  through 
the  long  nights,  and  welcomed  the  first  ray  of  light  as  a 
preserver  from  his  feverish,  agonizing  impatience.  One 
morning  this  restlessness  drove  him  out  even  earlier  than 
usual,  for  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which 
Cornelia  had  left  him.  Perhaps  she  would  give  herself 
to  him  again  on  this  day  ;  perhaps  she  bad  waited  for  it 
intentionally.  One  who  has  hoped  and  expected  so  long 
at  last  clings  to  every  conceivable  possibility.  Thus 
Ottmar's  feet  were  winged  with  double  speed  as  he  hur- 
ried through  pleasure-grounds  and  woodlands,  to  obtain 
that  for  which  be  longed  a  half-hour  earlier.  Wearied 
with  his  haste,  be  emerged  from  the  thicket  upon  the 
highway.  A  fresh  autumn  breeze  was  rustling  through 
the  tops  of  the  poplars,  bending  their  stiff  boughs  asun- 
der like  the  fingers  of  menacing  giant  hands.  The  broad, 
level  road,  with  its  dazzling  white  sand,  stretched  before 
him,  endless  and  empty, — the  storm  had  swept  it  clean  ; 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  on  the  wide  plain,  and  Oitmar 


REGENERATION.  333 

hurried  restlessly  onward.  Just  at  that  moment  the  dark 
figure  of  the  postman  appeared  in  the  distance,  and  with 
a  beating  heart  Heinrich  quickened  his  pace.  At  last 
he  reached  the  man,  who  was  already  holding  out  his 
bag;  but  again  he  was  disappointed, — it  contained  no- 
thing but  unimportant  business  letters.  The  last  possi- 
bility of  hope  had  now  disappeared  ;  now  he  could  no 
longer  doubt  that  Richard  had  written  the  truth,  that 
Cornelia  was  in  a  convent. 

His  measure  was  full.  The  Nemesis  he  had  so  long 
seemed  to  escape  had  overtaken  him,  and  he  must  pa- 
tiently endure  her  fury  with  fettered  hands.  Fortune, 
love,  honor,  all  were  lost,  irrevocably  lost,  and  every 
accusation  he  wished  to  heap  upon  others  recoiled  upon 
himself.  He  was  the  cause  of  his  own  misery,  he  alone. 
Fate  had  given  him  everything  he  desired  ;  but  he  had 
only  demanded  that  which  contained  the  germ  of  his 
ruin.  No  disaster  had  befallen  him  which  was  not  the 
punishment  of  a  crime.  Absorbed  in  these  reflections,, 
the  deeply-humbled  man  slowly  returned  and  reached 
the  wood.  The  bright  rays  of  the  autumn  sunlight  fell 
through  the  branches  and  made  the  yellow  leaves  glitter 
like  gold ;  the  farther  he  went  the  more  quiet  and  pleas- 
ant it  became.  The  withered  foliage,  alternated  with  the 
dark-green  hue  of  a  dense  grove  of  firs;  the  forest  mur- 
mured and  whispered  to  him  in  a  soothing  tone, — he  did 
not  hear  it,  did  not  remember  that  the  enchanted  ground 
he  entered  was  his  own  property  ;  his  heart  remained 
closed,  no  source  of  comfort  could  force  an  entrance.  In 
silent  agony  the  man  was  collecting  his  thoughts  to  pass 
a  stern,  hopeless  judgment  upon  himself. 

A  bench  stood  beside  a  beautiful  forest  stream ;  he  in- 
voluntarily turned  towards  it,  and  sat  down  with  his  face 
turned  towards  the  rushing  water.  He  did  not  think  of 
going  home:  he  had  one  no  longer;  the  house  in  which 
he  lived  contained  nothing  dear  to  him  ;  the  whole  woi'ld 
had  no  spot  where  love  and  joy  awaited  him,  where  he 
would  be  missed ;  if  he  remained  away,  society  had  no 
place  for  him  to  fill,  no  interests  which  it  would  confide 
to  him.  What  was  he  better  than  an  outcast,  a  homeless 
man  ?  Could  he  endure  the  disgrace  of  such  a  life  ?  Was 


334  A    TWOFOLD    LIFE. 

it  not  more  honorable  to  extinguish  it  in  'the  pure  current 
of  this  stream  ?  Who  would  lose,  from  whom  would  he 
take  anything,  if  he  cast  off  the  burden  of  a  hated,  pur- 
poseless existence?  And  yet  God  had  so  endowed  him 
that,  his  death  must  have  made  a  void  in  the  world,  if  he 
had  been  to  it  what  he  ought.  He  gazed  down  into  the 
murmuring  water,  which  incessantly  glided  by  him  pur- 
sued by  the  wind;  his  soul  allowed  itself  to  be  carried  on 
by  the  waves  like  a  loosened  vine.  The  eternally  chang- 
ing movement  before  his  eyes  made  him  giddy;  he  looked 
away,  and  now,  for  the  first  time,  became  aware  to.  what 
thoughts  he  had  involuntarily  yielded.  Did  no  power 
then  live  in  him  except  that  of  despising  and  destroying 
himself?  Could  he  atone  for  his  faults  by  committing  a 
crime  against  himself?  Should  he  steal  away  like  an 
unfaithful  steward  who  allowed  the  property  intrusted 
to  his  care  to  go  to  ruin  ?  Should  he  add  to  the  dishonor 
which  had  fallen  upon  his  name  the  eternal  disgrace  of 
suicide,  incur  Cornelia's  contempt,  because  lie  could  not 
bear  the  loss  of  her  love?  No,  he  had  not  fallen  so  low 
as  not  to  repel  such  a  thought  with  a  blush. 

But  what  could,  what  ought  he  to  do  now,  since  the 
only  profession  for  which  his  education  and  studies  fitted 
him — that  of  poli  tics — wasclosed  to  him  in  every  direction? 
A  quiet,  inactive,  private  life,  which  but  a  few  hours  be- 
fore, in  the  hope  of  a  marriage  with  Cornelia,  had  ap- 
peared endurable,  now  seemed  to  him  a  moral  death.  He 
did  not  understand  nature,  the  occupations  of  an  agri- 
culturist had  no  charms  for  him.  Should  he  turn  his 
estates  into  money,  and  invest  it  in  some  other  way  ? 
But  in  what?  All  the  pleasures  that  can  be  purchased 
he  had  already  enjoyed  to  the  dregs  ;  life  could  afford  him 
nothing  more.  The  egotist  had  reached  the  end  of  his 
career,  and  could  neither  advance  nor  recede.  Crushed 
and  helpless,  he  looked  back  upon  his  past  life,  and  now 
the  point  at  which  he  had  turned  from  the  right  path  re- 
vealed itself  to  his  searching  gaze.  The  hours  stood  forth 
before  bis  soul  when  he  had  struggled  in  his  first  conflict 
between  inclination  and  duty,  and  inclination  had  con- 
quered. All  the  strange,  feverish  fancies  once  more  rose 
before  his  memory,  and  he  perceived  that  they  were  the 


REGENERATION.  335 

voices  of  fiis  own  heart  which  had  spoken  to  him  in  the 
forms  of  delirium.  Now  he  understood — now,  after  it 
was  fulfilled — what  they  had  said.  With  the  first  false 
step  to  which  egotism  urged  him,  he  was  lost.  The 
frivolity  with  which  he  had  degraded  the  first  woman  he 
loved,  to  be  the  prey  of  his  passion,  robbed  him  of  his 
best  possession,  respect  for  the  sex.  Thus  every  base 
materialism,  which  only  sought  the  enjoyment  of  the 
senses  and  thereby  often  formed  the  sharpest  contrast 
with  the  demands  of  his  intellectual  nature,  developed 
itself.  The  more  frequently  this  conflict  occurred,  the 
greater  it  became,  the  further  the  two  extremes  became 
separated  from  each  other,  and  the  more  distinctly  their 
characteristics  were  stamped.  The  more  the  feelings 
were  severed  from  the  intellect,  the  -lower  they  sank  into 
sensuality,  the  stronger  the  passions  became,  and  the 
more  peremptorily  they  demanded  their  victim;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  more  exclusively  the  intellect 
withdrew  into  its  own  sphere,  the  further  it  banished  the 
feelings,  the  colder  and  more  obstinate  it  became,  the 
more  dull  to  everything  which  did  not  concern  its  own 
advantage,  and  therefore  the  more  unprincipled.  From 
this  sprang  the  crimes  which  Henri  on  the  one  hand,  and 
Heinrich  on  the  other,  had  committed,  whose  conse- 
quences now  drove  him  to  despair,  and  had  even  terrified 
and  driven  from  him  forever  the  only  woman  for  whom 
both  extremes  longed  with  equal  ardor.  Thus  the  cause 
of  all  the  evil  in  bis  whole  mistaken  life  was  the  separa- 
tion between  the  mind  and  heart;  the  pleasure-seeking  of 
the  one,  the  immoderate  ambition  of  the  other,  was  the 
cnrse  which  had  sprung  from  this  division,  the  form  under 
which  egotism  had  taken  possession  of  both  portions  of 
his  nature.  And  of  what  he  had  enjoyed  and  obtained 
— nothing  was  left!  His  life  had  been  fruitless  to  him- 
self as  well  as  to  others.  He  had  deceived  and  sacrificed 
confiding  natures,  and  brought  a  nation  to  ruin  for  the 
sake  of  tasting  the  delights  of  ruling;  the  pleasure  was 
over,  and  the  curses  of  the  unhappy  accompanied  him. 
Everything  life  could  offer  was  exhausted,  drained,  and 
worn  out!  All  the  threads  by  which  the  heart  draws  its 
nourishment  from  the  world  were  cut  off  and  withered. 


336  A    TWOFOLD    LIFE. 

He  now  felt  the  deep  truth  of  what  Cornelia  had  wished 
to  teach  him,  what  he  had  once  in  a  dream  bodingly  an- 
ticipated: "  Remember  that  the  end  of  life  is  neither  to 
enjoy  nor  to  obtain,  but  to  be  useful  and  accomplish  good 
works."  But  now,  when  this  great  knowledge  seized 
upon  him, — when  he  perceived  the  fruitlessness  of  all 
selfish  efforts, — now  when  a  powerful  impulse  urged  him 
to  do  what  mankind,  and  accomplish  what  God,  could  ask 
of  him, — now  it  was  too  late ;  every  path  was  closed,  and 
the  woman  who  alone  could  restore  harmony  to  his  na- 
ture, lost!  The  guilt  of  the  past  had  destroyed  the  hope 
of  the  future. 

He  rested  his  forehead  upon  his  hand  and  closed  his 
eyes ;  he  could  form  no  plans  for  the  future,  while  repent- 
ance and  anguish  stirred  his  heart  so  violently — the  first 
true  repentance,  the  first  great  sorrow,  of  his  life.  True, 
his  powers  rose  and  expanded  in  the  struggle  with  the 
unknown  enemy  as  they  had  never  done  before,  and  the 
mighty  assault  of  the  contending  elements  widened  and 
swelled  his  breast,  as  if  now  for  the  first  time  he  became 
a  man,  now  for  the  first  time  there  was  room  in  his  heart 
for  lofty  feelings,  resolutions,  and  efforts;  true,  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  strength  ennobled  and  increased  by 
sorrow  conquered  for  a  moment :  but  as  if  with  this, 
the  longing  for  the  nature  that  had  always  guided  him 
towards  the  right  path  strengthened,  the  thoughts  of 
Cornelia's  loss  once  more  gathered  in  the  depths  of  his 
soul  to  break  over  him  with  renewed  violence.  What 
could  life  still  offer  him  ?  There  was  no  longer  any  love 
like  Cornelia's,  any  mind  like  hers,  any  woman  who 
could  compare  with  her.  He  felt  that  this  sorrow  would 
never  die;  that  he  might  perhaps  obtain  honor,  but  never 
happiness  again.  He  threw  himself  despairingly  upon 
the  bench,  face  downward.  The  stream  hurried  along 
at  his  feet,  plashing  and  glittering;  the  birds  looked 
down  from  the  branches  at  the  tall,  quiet  man,  turned 
their  heads  inquisitively,  and  softly  twittered  a  timid 
question.  Far  above  his  head  the  summits  of  the  ancient 
h'rs  rustled  and  told  the  azure  sky  of  the  sorrow  concealed 
beneath  their  shade. 

Softly  and  slowly  the  bushes  near  him  parted, — he  did 


REGENERATION.  337 

not  hear  it, — and  a  slender  girlish  form  glided  over  the 
soft  moss  with  a  light  step  ;  cautiously  approached,  and 
as  she  stood  beside  him,  bent  down,  holding  her  breath. 
Her  glances  beamed  through  tears,  and  she  trembled  like 
a  wild  roso  under  the  morning  dew.  Heinrich  heard  a 
heart  beating  close  beside  his  ear,  felt  his  head  raised  and 
pressed  to  a  heaving  bosom  ;  looked  into  a  pair  of  eyes 
like  two  shining  worlds.  It  was  no  dream,  and  yet  he 
could  not  utter  a  sound ;  all  that  he  thought  and  felt 
blended  together  in  an  unspeakable  something,  which 
swelled  his  heart  with  glowing  warmth,  rose  higher  and 
higher  till  it  reached  his  eyes,  overflowed  as  if  his  whole 
soul  was  gushing  forth  with  it :  he  had  wept  his  first 
tears  upon  Cornelia's  breast,  and  holding  her  in  a  mute 
embrace  reveled  in  this  unspeakable  bliss  ! 

The  noonday  sun  shone  brightly  and  glowed  through 
the  ripe  clusters  of  grapes  which  hung  from  a  trellis  that 
surrounded  the  steward's  pretty  little  house  not  far  from 
Ottmar's  castle.  A  charming  young  woman  stood  in  the 
doorway,  looking  with  eager  expectation  towards  the 
forest ;  the  steward  was  working  busily  in  the  garden, 
but  he,  too,  often  glanced  into  the  distance. 

"  I  don't  understand  where  they  could  stay  so  long, 
if  they  met  each  other,"  said  the  little  woman,  at  last. 
"  It  would  be  a  pity  if  she  missed  him.  I  grieve  over 
every  hour  the  poor  master  is  obliged  to  spend  in  his 
sorrow." 

"Yes,"  gasped  the  man,  wiping  his  brow,  "it  was 
time  for  her  to  show  herself;  the  master's  melancholy 
manner  and  wretched  looks  were  becoming  the  talk  of 
the  whole  neighborhood ;  and,  after  all,  she  couldn't  have 
been  kept  concealed  much  longer:  we  were  always  in  a 
fright."  He  threw  his  tools  aside,  Went  up  to  his  wife, 
and  put  his  arm  around  her  neck.  "  You  would  not  have 
borne  seeing  me  suffer  so  long,  would  you,  my  Roschen?" 

She  nestled  fondly  to  his  side  and  nodded.  "  No,  in- 
deed, my  dear  Albert !  But  these  great  people  are  very 
different  from  us.  Cornelia  has  a  grand,  noble  soul,  which 
\ve  must  not  judge  by  our  own." 

"  You  are  right;  it  would  not  be  proper  for  us  to  apply 
P  29 


338  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

our  standard  to  them.  Let  us  thank  God  we  are  made  as 
is  needful  for  our  situation  and  welfare." 

"  Yes,  thank  God  for  it !"  cried  Iloschen,  joyously. 
"  Oh,  Albert !  how  unhappy  these  aristocratic  people 
often  make  themselves  with  their  over-refinement  and 
their  lofty  requirements  !  I  saw  that  in  my  poor  dead 
princess.  Heaven  knows  what  sorrow  was  gnawing  at 
her  heart  I  According  to  my  ideas,  she  might  have 
been  very  happy ;  but  it  often  seemed  as  if  she  did  not 
wish  to  be.  At  any  rate,  it  was  a  very  aristocratic 
sorrow.  If  she  had  been  in  our  condition  in  life,  and  had 
not  had  so  much  time  to  give  way  to  her  thoughts,  she 
would  undoubtedly  be  alive  now." 

"  Well,  those  two  at  least  are  not  making  themselves 
wretched/'  laughed  Albert,  pointing  to  Cornelia  and 
Heinrich,  who  were  rapidly  approaching. 

The  married  pair  modestly  withdrew,  and  Cornelia  and 
Heinrich,  absorbed  in  delightful  conversation,  reached 
the  house,  and  entered  a  pleasant  little  room  on  the 
ground  floor. 

"  See,  Heinrich,  here  is  the  hiding-place  where  I  waited 
for  three  weeks.  From  behind  the  curtains  of  that  window 
I  saw  you  pass,  day  after  day,  and  watched  your  face 
with  a  throbbing  heart.  Will  you  forgive  me  for  be- 
coming a  spy  upon  you  ?  I  wished,  I  was  obliged,  first 
to  discover  whether  you  were  at  last  a  man  to  whom  I 
might  dare  to  intrust  my  fate,  whether  you  still  loved 
me,  and  whether  in  my  affection  I  should  offer  you  a 
welcome  gift.  I  was  obliged  to  give  you  time  to  collect 
your  thoughts  after  the  blow  that  had  fallen  upon  you, 
and  to  raise  yourself  by  your  own  might.  If  you  had 
shown  yourself  to  my  secretly  watchful  gaze  otherwise 
than  I  hoped,  otherwise  than  I  might  dare  to  love  you, 
I  should  have  gone  away  as  I  came,  unobserved  by 
you ;  perhaps  with  a  broken  heart,  but  silently  and  for- 
ever." 

"  You  would  have  gone  as  already  many  a  happiness 
has  fled  from  the  threshold  of  him  who  did  not  deserve 
it,"  said  Heinrich,  clasping  her  closely  in  his  arms. 
"  Oh,  God,  my  salvation  and  my  ruin  were  both  so  near ! 
Your  eyes  watched  me  like  those  of  God,  and  if  I  had 


REG  EN  ERA  TION.  339 

not  stood  the  test  you  would  have  left  me  for  the  second 
time,  and  been  irrevocably  lost  to  me." 

"Ah,  I  did  not  doubt  that  you  would  stand  the  test ! 
A  man  has  rarely  made  greater  sacrifices  for  a  woman 
than  you  for  me  in  the  course  of  this  last  year;  for  I 
clearly  perceived  that  you  would  never  have  acted  as  you 
have  done  if  it  had  not  been  for  my  sake.  But  for  your 
love  for  me  you  would  in  a  few  years  have  conquered 
your  longing  for  a  higher  satisfaction,  and  remained  till 
the  end  of  your  days  in  the  cold  splendor  of  your  position 
at  the  court  of  N .  Love  for  me — I  may  be  al- 
lowed to  say  so,  since  it  is  no  merit  of  mine — was  the 
impulse  that  led  you  to  take  the  first  steps  in  another 
path.  It  guided  you  hither,  and  I  did  not  fear  that  it 
would  desert  you  now,  when  it  was  apparently  leading 
you  into  misery.  But  a  noble  woman  asks  more  than 
love  from  the  man  of  her  choice :  she  demands  character, 
firmness  in  misfortune  as  well  as  prosperity,  the  power 
which  is  to  be  her  support  and  protection,  the  greatness 
to  which  she  can  cheerfully  submit,  admiringly  look  up. 
It  is  a  necessity  of  our  natures  to  honor  what  we  love ; 
in  this  humility  lies  our  pride.  If  we  cannot  truly  con- 
sider the  man  to  whom  we  belong  far  superior  to  us,  we 
feel  humiliated  in  acknowledging  him  as  our  master. 
That  is  why  I  remained  concealed  so  long  ;  I  wished  to 
investigate  your  whole  life  and  conduct  here,  to  see  what 
influence  you  exerted,  whether  you  did  good  and  made 
those  around  you  happy,  what  pleasures  and  employ- 
meflb  you  choose,  how  you  would  bear  the  misfortune 
that  had  fallen  upon  you.  And  what  I  saw  and  heard 
convinced  me  that  you  had  entered  upon  your  new  call- 
ing not  only  in  appearance,  but  reality ;  that  you  had 
become  a  man  to  whom  I  might  confidently  give  myself. 
Yet  the  tears  you  have  just  shed  told  me  more  than  all. 
With  these  tears  a  new  and  better  man  was  born  in  you  ; 
they  have  atoned  for  every  wrong,  washed  away  every 
spot.  Ah,  if  the  bigoted  priests  who  believe  you  a  lost  soul 
had  witnessed  that  one  moment,  they  would  have  under- 
stood that  there  is  something  holy  outside  their  church  !" 

"Cornelia,"  cried  Heinrich,  "dear,  precious  girl,  say 
no  more  to  me  about  the  Jesuits  !  Although  I  bear  no 


340  A    TWOFOLD   LIFE. 

ill-will  towards  the  unhappy  Severinus,  whom  you  have 
taught  me  to  know  as  my  brother,  although  I  forgive  the 
intrigues  they  plotted  against  me,  I  will  never  pardon 
them  for  having  torn  you  from  me  and  attempted  to  make 
you  a  proselyte,  for  having  intrusted  you  for  so  long 
a  time  to  that  handsome,  dangerous  Severinus,  whose 
perhaps  unintentional  conquests  over  women's  hearts 
are  well  known  to  the  order.  I  can  only  consider  it  as  a 
miracle  that  you  remained  faithful  to  me." 

Cornelia  smilingly  shook  the  hair  back  from  her  brow. 
"  The  miracle  is  nothing  more  than  that  I  have  a  faithful 
heart  and  a  firm  head." 

"  Those  are  the  highest  gifts  a  woman  can  possess. 
And  this  jewel  has  fallen  to  my  lot,  mine  of  all  others  ; 
this  loyal,  sorely  wounded  heart  clung  to  me;  this 
proud  firm  brow,  no  power  has  ever  humiliated,  bent  to 
nil'.  Oh,  Cornelia,  strong,  gentle,  forgiving  woman,  no 
man  ever  yet  repented  more  deeply,  or  was  more  truly 
grateful,  than  I  repent  my  crimes  and  thank  you  for  your 
love !  A  thousand  others  in  your  place  would  either 
have  been  dragged  down  by  me,  or  cast  me  off  forever; 
but  you  would  not  permit  yourself  to  be  misled  by  all  my 
faults  and  sins,  you  believed  in  a  noble  germ  within  me. 
Instead  of  punishing,  you  reformed  me,  have  been  faith- 
ful to  me;  and  now  give  yourself  to  me  as  trustfully  and 
freely  as  in  the  first  moment  of  our  love.  Oh,  girl,  there 
is  no  word  for  this  bliss!  my  thoughts  are  whelmed  in  a 
sea  of  emotions !"  He  paused  and  laid  his  head  upon  hers, 
as  if  he  wished  to  rest  from  his  overmastering  emo^n. 

"  Heinrich,"  said  Cornelia,  with  deep,  loving,  earnest- 
ness, "  let  the  past  rest ;  the  Heinrich  to  whom  I  always 
belonged,  and  shall  as  long  as  I  live,  never  wronged  me  ; 
he  suffered  with  me  when  that  other  came  between  and 
tore  us  from  each  other.  That  Count  Ottmar,  whose  wife 
I  never  wished  to  become,  has  atoned  for  his  fault ;  he  is 
dead.  Never  conjure  up  his  gloomy  shade  befare  me, 
even  to  arraign  him,  I  beseech  you." 

"  Yes,  my  angel,  you  are  right.  Xever  was  it  so  clear 
to  me  as  to-day  that  I  bore  my  worst  enemy  in  myself, 
and  in  the  last  few  hours  I  have  buried  him  forever.  One 
complete  in  himself,  Cornelia,  receives  you  in  his  arms  ;  it 


REG  EN  ERA  TION.  341 

shall  be  his  one  task  to  live  for  you  and  your  happiness; 
he  no  longer  seeks  or  hopes  for  anything  but  you  and  a 
quiet  family  happiness,  unnoticed,  but  rich  in  blessing." 

Cornelia  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  "  Would  you 
renounce  politics  and  every  manly  profession  ?" 

"How  can  I  help  it?  What  can  I  begin  after  this 
failure?  My  political  credit  is  ruined  here  as  well  as 
elsewhere.  What  can  it  avail  to  convince  myself  .more 
and  more  that  I  cannot  make  amends  for  my  errors  in 
this  province  ?  But  here," — he  laid  his  hand  on  Cornelia's 
shoulder, — "here,  thank  God,  I  can  atone  for  the  wrongs 
I  have  committed ;  here  I  can  and  will  prove  that  I  have 
become  a  different  man  !" 

"No,  Heiurich,"  cried  Cornelia,  deeply  touched.  "  I 
thank  you  for  these  words,  and  for  the  cheerfulness  with 
which  you  hope  to  find  in  me  a  compensation  for  all ;  but 
I  think  too  highly  of  you  to  be  able  to  share  this  hope. 
No  wife,  not  even  the  most  beloved,  can  make  that  super- 
fluous for  which  her  husband  was  born:  to  work  in  a 
lofty  vocation.  What  you 'now  feel,  in  the  first  ebullition 
°f  J°y.  Jou  cannot  always  experience.  The  storm  that 
now  fills  your  heart  now  will  subside  in  time,  and  the 
calm  which  will  then  follow  would  at  last  make  you  find 
a  void  in  yourself.  You  are  no  '  shepherd,'  Heinrich.  An 
idyllic,  private  life  would  not  long  satisfy  you ;  a  quiet 
withdrawal  into  your  own  family  circle,  a  limiting  of  your- 
self to  that  which  is  personally  dear  to  you,  would  be 
again  an  egotistical,  and  therefore  only  a  partial,  happi- 
nea£i  You  possess  the  power  of  solving  comprehensive 
problems.  Every  power  imperiously  demands  its  right 
to  assert  itself;  if  the  opportunity  is  denied,  it  turns 
destructively  against  the  barriers  imposed  upon  it,  and 
that  which  is  also  within  them.  Thus  it  would  be  with 
you  and  our  peace.  Woe  betide  the  wife  who  believe* 
that  she  can  and  must  be  the  whole  world  to  her  husband  ! 
She  does  not  understand  his  larger  nature,  and  will  only 
make  herself  or  him  unhappy.  I  do  not  belong  to  that 
class.  I  pride  myself  in  taking  into  account  all  the  just 
demands  of  your  character,  thus  only  can  I  make  you 
happy.  I  will  not  regret  you  in  the  hours  your  profession 
claims,  for  I  shall  take  possession  of  you  doubly  in  spirit, 

29* 


342  A    TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

when  I  know  you  to  be  toiling  for  that  for  which  I  myself 
would  fain  strive  with  all  my  powers,  and  must  not 
because  I  am  a  womanf  I  will  not  bewail  the  time  you 
take  from  me  to  give  to  mankind,  for  I  love  all  men  far 
too  much  to  grudge  them  what  you  can  do  for  their 
welfare.  And  then,  Heinrich," — she  laid  her  head  on  bis 
breast,  and  gazed  into  his  face  with  a  bride's  ardent  love, 
— "then  when  you  return  home  to  your  wife,  weary  but 
joyous  in  the  consciousness  of  duty  fulfilled,  then  you 
shall  rest  in  my  arms,  in  my  faithful  love,  and  let  me 
have  the  proud  belief  that  my  heart  is  the  soil  from  which 
the  roots  of  your  life  draw  nourishment  for  the  glorious 
fruits  that  you  permit  the  world  to  reap  1" 

"  Cornelia,  glorious  creature  !  What  a  picture  you  con- 
jure up  before  the  soul  I  These  are  divine  revelations,  and 
I  will  follow  them  uuquestioningly.  Yes,  I  will  begin 
anew  ;  guide  me  with  your  inspired,  prophetic  glance, 
lead  me  to  the  path  upon  which  my  first  step  faltered  ;  you 
alone  know  what  is  for  my  welfare."  He  gazed  long  and 
earnestly  into  her  eyes.  "  Ob,  do  not  reproach  me  as 
unmanly  because  I  give  myself  up  entirely  to  you,  since 
through  you  I  first  became  what  I  am,  through  you  alone 
I  first  learned  to  perceive  in  laboring  for  others  a  duty, 
an  object,  in  life  !  The  representatives  of  these  noble 
ideas  are  principally  women  ;  for  to  labor  and  care  for 
others  is  woman's  mission,  to  sacrifice  herself  for  others' 
interests  her  greatest  power.  The  man  who  allows  him- 
self to  be  guided  by  a  woman  need  not  become  womanish, 
nor  the  woman  masculine.  If,  like  you,  Cornelia,  she 
rises  above  her  narrow  subjective  world  to  ideas  which 
comprehend  all  humanity,  she  confers  the  qualities  in- 
herent in  her  upon  them,  and  then  doubtless  becomes 
capable  of  guiding  the  more  egotistical  man  to  honest 
efforts  for  the  race,  self-sacrifice,  and  true  philanthropy  ! 
Thus  the  strength  of  your  love  and  virtue,  in  one  word, 
your  lofty  womanhood,  draws  me  upward."  He  threw 
his  arms  around  her  and  pressed  her  ardently  to  his  heart. 
"  Cornelia,  my  betrothed  bride,  oh,  tell  me  again  and 
again  that  I  can  never  lose  you,  that  you  are  mine!" 

She  clasped  her  hands.  "  Forever  !  forever  !  and  may 
God's  blessing  be  with  us!" 


REGENERATION.  343 

"Amen !"  said  Heinrich. 

Thus  the  power  of  a  genuine  love  had  healed  the 
secret  conflict  in  Ottmar.  Intellect  and  sensuous  feel- 
ings, both  equally  attracted,  equally  satisfied,  united  iu 
the  same  object,  and  in  the  soft  atmosphere  of  a  true 
happiness  his  shattered  nature  healed  into  a  symmetrical 
whole. 

The  ghostly  apparitions  of  his  dual  existence  disap- 
peared before  the  reality  of  an  all-reconciling  feeling 
which  seized  upon  the  inmost  kernel  of  life,  and  from 
this  brought  forth  the  source  of  never-failing  joy. 

When  the  whole  man  was  in  harmony  with  himself, 
his  long-scattered^and  dispersed  powers  concentrated  in 
the  depths  of  his  soul,  and  now  for  the  first  time  showed 
unity  of  purpose  and  noble,  honest  action  :  for  the  first 
time  he  became  a  man.  And  when  he  thus  once  more 
appeared  before  the  world  with  head  erect,  he  conquered ; 
for  real  ability  and  honest  convictions  always  find  allies 
in  the  natural  instincts  of  the  people,  and  against  these 
even  the  hostility  of  the  Jesuits  was  powerless.  The 
web  they  had  entwined  around  him  was  only  that  of  his 
own  cowardice  and  duplicity.  His  manly  conduct  at 
last  tore  it  asunder.  He  was  now  free,  and  his  purified 
character  afforded  no  opening  for  a  new  snare.  After  a 
few  years  he  saw  the  noblest  ambition  gratified, — that 
of  being  useful  and  accomplishing  some  good  result.  He 
was  the  main  support  of  the  party  in  favor  of  the  consti- 
tution, averted  a  threatening  reaction  by  his  ready  dia- 
lectics, felt  the  mighty  breath  of  an  applauding  nation 
hoveriog  like  a  vivifying  spring-storm  about  his  head, 
and  everywhere,  far  and  wide,  saw  the  seeds  springing 
up  which  his  reawakened  philanthropy  had  sown. 

And  with  inexpressible  joy  ne  clasped  his  blooming 
wife  in  his  arms,  compared  the  lifeless  splendor  of  the 
former  minister  with  the  warm,  evermore  richly  develop- 
ing activity  of  the  simple  deputy,  and  his  full  heart 
gratefully  overflowed  in  the  proud  words,  "  Yes,  my  wife, 
you  were  right ;  it  is  not  what  the  world  is  to  us,  but 
what  we  are  to  the  world,  that  is  the  measure  of  our 
happiness." 

THE    END. 


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